


Poppies

by baeconandeggs, chennychenchinchen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Minor Injuries, Romance, Soulmates, Swearing, Violence, character harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-05-07 12:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/chennychenchinchen/pseuds/chennychenchinchen
Summary: Baekhyun certainly wasn’t expecting the guy he only met a few days ago to suddenly proclaim that they’re soulmates. He also didn’t expect to start to believing him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** BAE318
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Author's Note:** I know the warnings look bad but I promise you that the majority of this is actually pretty tame haha. Prompter, I don’t know what you had in mind when you submitted it, but I hope I did your open-ended prompt justice! Lots of love to B for being with me since the beginning, to C for somehow finding time to beta this between her thousands of other commitments, and to J for helping me add an extra element that this fic would be one dimensional without. And last but most certainly not least, endless thank yous to the mods for doing what they do and putting up with my existential crisis over tagging. Mahal ko kayong lahat  <3

It was in high school when they first met.

They tried to ignore the emotions at first. The craving for closeness, the immense thorns of jealousy, the subconscious need to give affection. How could they dare to act on their desires? Having a romantic attachment to someone who you aren’t certain is your soulmate would only lead to heartbreak. Nevertheless, after high school they moved in together with another close friend and the three of them opened a cafe, facing entrepreneurship head-on as a trio.

The older one turned 21 first, worried and distraught. How long would he stay at that age? 6 days? 6 months? 6 years? He would stay that age until his soulmate also turned 21 and it’s impossible to predict how long that would take. Soulmates must age in sync, you see, and one’s age could theoretically plateau for years on end if their soulmate is significantly younger than them or dies before they reach 21. 

It was when they made eye contact for the first time on the morning of the younger’s 21st birthday a year later when an indescribable feeling washed over them. A feeling of happiness, a feeling of affection, but most of all, a feeling of reassurance.  _ Yes, I was your soulmate all along, the person who will be with you through every lifetime, every incarnation, and now I am free to love you openly.  _ They began planning their marriage the same day, and the actual wedding occurred a few months later.

Yes, Jongdae and Minseok were deeply in love indeed, and Baekhyun could never bring himself to resent the fact that his two best friends were soulmates. 

It got on his nerves sometimes of course, how could it not? You can't just simply ignore the fact that you will always be the third wheel; in the outings you go on, in the business that you co-own, even in the house you share. If anything, it was just hard to see the two people he cared about most in the world so  _ blatantly in love _ , to put it plainly. 

It wasn’t because they were sick of him. In fact, the reality was just the opposite, as they still cared about him just as much as best friends would. Rather it was because Byun Baekhyun believed there would be a day when they  _ would _ get sick of him. A day where they would decide to leave, get their own apartment, start a cafe of their own, and leave Baekhyun behind the cafe counter with no one by his side. 

Baekhyun loved his best friends more than anything else in the world, but seeing them together never failed to make him feel lonely.

21 was a magical number in society. The number that seemed to make all your problems vanish and replaced them with a unique sense of hope. Hope that there was someone out there, someone made for you who will love you in every incarnation.

Byun Baekhyun, the world’s most passive pessimist, was a month away from this age. Despite having 20 years and 11 months to dream about the person he was destined to be with throughout an eternity of lifetimes, the thought of having a soulmate seldom inspired excitement in him.

Sometimes Baekhyun lost confidence that he had a soulmate at all, leaving him to stay 21 forever. He wondered if that eternity would be so bad.

-

“Welcome to  _ The One _ café, what would you like to order?” 

It was the same lame line that Baekhyun spat out every day to every other customer he tended to. And yet the particular stranger he was speaking to didn’t respond to his memorized phrase like everyone else did. Instead, his eyes were wide and locked on Baekhyun’s own, mouth dropped open in a small ‘o’. To say it made Baekhyun uncomfortable would be an understatement.

_ Is there something on my face?  _ Baekhyun glanced at the large mirror hanging on the wall behind the customer. He found nothing out of the ordinary on his reflection.

“Um, sir, can I help you..?” he prodded, wanting nothing more than to duck and hide under the counter until this stranger left. He wished Jongdae and Minseok were with him helping him man the counter. 

The man cleared his throat before taking his hands out of the pockets of his Adidas tracksuit and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Haha, yes, sorry. I get distracted by beauty easily.” He sounded sheepish, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Baekhyun rolled his eyes. 

“If you’re not going to order, I’d appreciate it if you’d step out of line.” Not that there  _ was _ anyone else in line. 

“I’ll have an americano, please.”

“For here or to go?”

“For here.”

“Any cream or sugar?”

“No, thank you.” The stranger passed money over the counter. Baekhyun handed him the change, and he couldn’t do more than raise an eyebrow as it was dropped straight into the tip jar. 

“Coming right up. You can have a seat and I’ll bring it to you when it’s finished.” Baekhyun turned to prepare the drink, but the stranger hadn’t moved away from the counter. He instead had only moved out of the way of the register. Feeling the stranger’s eyes burn into the back of his head, Baekhyun turned around again and plastered on a fake smile. “You can have a seat,” he repeated.

“I’d rather wait for it here if that’s okay.”

“If you’re nervous about the way your coffee is going to be prepared, I promise you that we take cleanliness very seriously and work hard to produce only the highest quality of roasts.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I’m not nervous. I trust your quality.”

Baekhyun felt his eyebrow twitch. “With all due respect, sir, we function more as a formal café rather than a Starbucks. Our customers  _ sit down _ and we bring the coffee  _ to them _ . Are you in a rush? Would you rather have it to go so you can leave right away?”

“It’s okay, you can just bring it to me over the counter. And no thank you, for here is fine.”

Baekhyun had no idea why anyone would deny that part of their service. “Suit yourself, I guess.”  _ Creep. _

The man stared at him the whole time Baekhyun prepared his coffee. It was the most awkward americano he had ever made in his life. 

-

The café was closed and the sky was dark, a crescent moon only slightly visible from the wide windows. Inside, three people were preparing to lock it up for the night with some daily cleaning.

It was originally Minseok’s dream to open a café but Baekhyun and Jongdae had hopped on the idea with him, risks of entrepreneurship be damned. Two years later and they were the owners of a nice coffee shop with a positive reputation among college students and office workers alike. 

The café was their pride and joy, a physical manifestation of their unwavering friendship. They loved it almost as much as they loved each other.

“That’s really fucking strange,” Jongdae paused in the process of wiping down the counter to laugh after Baekhyun recounted the story of a man he had served that day. Baekhyun playfully slapped Jongdae’s shoulder, catching the younger by surprise and causing him to drop his cleaning spray onto the ground. Rolling his eyes, Minseok reached down to pick it up.

“Seriously though, he really didn’t sit down? Even when you asked him to and told him that you’d bring it to him?” Minseok’s eyebrows were furrowed. “He just stared at you without saying anything?”

“He only sat down when I gave him his coffee. It was creepy beyond words, but I didn’t say anything because he tipped me so well.”

“Why was he so insistent on standing there when his order was ‘for here?’”

“Jeez, how should  _ I _ know? It wouldn’t mind it if he was looking at his phone or something but I could  _ feel his eyes staring into my soul _ . I thought I was going to drop his coffee”

“But was he cute?” Jongdae interjected. Minseok shot him a look, but Jongdae only shrugged in reply. “C’mon, it was a genuine question. Maybe he’s your  _ soulmate _ . Swoon, how romantic! He just wanted to look at you!”

Baekhyun pretended to gag. “He wore an Adidas tracksuit. Have you seen anyone look cute in an Adidas tracksuit? There’s no way my soulmate wears Adidas tracksuits.”

“Can’t say that for sure until you’re 21. I’m sure they didn’t wear Adidas tracksuits in any of your past lives,” Minseok shook his head with a smile, ruffling Baekhyun’s hair.

“But without the Adidas tracksuit, would he have been cute?” Jongdae persisted, voice bordering on whiny. Baekhyun paused to debate for a moment, tapping his chin.

“Slightly above average.”

-

“Welcome to  _ The One _ café, what would you like to order?” 

“An americano, no cream or sugar please.”

It was the same creepy guy that had come in the day before. He was better dressed with jeans and a plain white shirt. Baekhyun decided to pretend their past encounter never happened, though he could hear the man’s change going straight into the tip jar again. The man didn’t go to a table this time either. Baekhyun was thankful when his attention was called away from the borderline stalker by the next customer in line. 

Baekhyun was nearly done making the drinks before the man spoke up. “Do you remember me?” 

“Remember you from where?” he tilted his head. The man visibly deflated, eyes drooping.

“So you don’t remember me from yesterday?” He looked so sad, his face akin to that of a kicked puppy. “That’s disappointing, I was hoping you would.  _ I  _ remember  _ you _ .”

“We have a lot of customers,” Baekhyun held the coffee out over the counter. The man took it gingerly, not looking up to meet Baekhyun’s eyes.

“You’re right. Sorry to bother you, then.” 

-

“Is this the guy?” Jongdae paused his restocking of coffee beans to whisper to Baekhyun as a tall man entered the café a day later. He was wearing a tan sweater today, a cracked white heart design over the left breast area. Baekhyun nodded solemnly, cautiously eyeing his approaching figure from where he stood at the register.

“Welcome to  _ The One _ café, what would you like to order?” 

“I’ll have an americano, no cream or sugar please.”

“I’ll make it!” Jongdae cut in loudly before Baekhyun could respond, obnoxiously strutting his way over to the coffee machine. Baekhyun shot Jongdae a look that threatened death. He only smiled cheekily back. The man assumed his usual place standing and waiting at the counter, and Baekhyun desperately stared forward as he felt the man’s strong gaze on him. It was quiet for a while, save for the low hum of the espresso machine, and the tension was unbearable. 

“Do you remember me now?” the man asked. A ‘no’ was immediately on Baekhyun’s lips, but he hesitated a second too long.

“Like I said, we have a lot of customers…”

“Aha! So you do!”  _ Damnit.  _ “I knew you would! Did you remember me yesterday, too? I’m sure you did, why did you lie? I like being remembered, you know. I think everyone does. Do you remember all of your customers or just me?”

This man was too much. Baekhyun couldn’t stop himself from snapping.

“I’ll have you know that I only remembered you because you stood at the counter like a creep, kind of like you’re doing right now. All of our  _ other _ customers actually have the decency to have a seat like you would at  _ literally every other café ever  _ instead of harassing the barista with their unwarranted staring.” Baekhyun almost regretted the sharpness in his tone as soon as he saw the man’s face fall, looking even sadder than he had the day before when Baekhyun first pretended not to recognize him. He heard Jongdae sharply inhale from behind him, probably to keep from snorting.

“I... I’m sorry,” the man turned his head away from Baekhyun, his head resting on his hands in a face platter. “I really am. I was just really hoping you’d remember me if I stood at the counter. I… wanted to look at you a bit longer. You’re really cute, you know…”

Baekhyun’s face flushed red. Surely Jongdae was done making the coffee by now; americanos aren’t exactly complicated to make. Baekhyun glanced over his shoulder at said man, who met his eyes before promptly overturning the cup of completed americano, spilling the drink all over the tiled floor.

“Oh my, what a terrible accident! My mistake!” Jongdae shot a fake apologetic smile at the man at the counter and a pointed one at Baekhyun. “I’ll clean this up and make a new one.”

“It's okay,” the man tried to chuckle and smile back, though his sadness still shone through. Baekhyun glared at Jongdae as the latter took his sweet time strutting into the back room to retrieve the cleaning supplies. Sighing and still red in the face, Baekhyun turned back to the man at the counter.

“What’s your name?” he asked. The man seemed delighted by this question, face lit up and eyes bright. If he had a tail, Baekhyun was sure it would be wagging.

“Park Chanyeol. What’s yours?”

“Byun Baekhyun.” With a smile, the man- Chanyeol -reached over the counter to pat Baekhyun’s head lightly. Face even redder, Baekhyun didn’t pull away at the soft touch.

“I have the feeling we’ll be very close, Baekhyun.” 

-

“Slightly above average?” Jongdae had an eyebrow raised as he rinsed out the washcloth for a final time before tossing it at Baekhyun. “He’s not my type. But if he was, I’d bang him.”

“Gross,” Baekhyun hung the washcloth on a rack. “How do you think Minseok would react to that if he weren’t home sick today?”

“He knows I’m loyal. And don’t lie, I bet you want to bang him too.” Jongdae’s grin turned greasy when Baekhyun didn’t respond and instead turned red-faced. “He’s super into you, Baek. You should go for it.”

“Not in this world.” Baekhyun sighed, laying his head down on the counter that was still wet from cleaning. His cheek stuck to the damp surface. “I'm not even 21 yet. Soulmates are a double edged sword.” 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with exploring the romance world a little before meeting your soulmate. Everyone does it,” Jongdae protested.

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. “Yourself included?”

“Yep! Minseok and I may have done a few  _ things _ back in high school.” Baekhyun didn’t dare ask what these ‘things’ were. 

“But you guys are actually soulmates, that doesn’t count!”

“We didn’t  _ know _ we were soulmates back then, though!”

Baekhyun was tired of talking about his friends’ picture-perfect relationship. “But still, Jongdae. I turn 21 in a month, what if I get too attached? What if I’m not over him by the time I find my soulmate? Will I still be able to recognize my soulmate if I’m too diluted by my love for someone else?” Baekhyun lifted his head as Jongdae sat down next to him, affectionately stroking his back.

“Chances are that you won’t find your soulmate on the first day you’re 21, Baek. Our society doesn’t even have an immediate way to tell right away if we stop aging or not for pete’s sake. When you meet your soulmate, you just  _ know _ .” Jongdae offered a smile brimming with sincerity, a rare occurrence. “What’s his name? Chenyool? Chanyale? Whatever it is, I’m not saying you have to fuck him. But there’s nothing wrong with some mindless flirting and a few fun dates, right? No strings attached, nothing long-haul.” Baekhyun pondered this for a moment before letting out a hum.

“I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence on me, Jongdae.” 

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.”

-

“Americano with no cream or sugar?”

“You know me so well already, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol remarked slyly as he handed Baekhyun his money. 

“You wish,” Baekhyun scoffed, returning the change before turning to prepare the drink. The usual clinking of money in the tip jar came as no surprise. The espresso machine flipped on, rumbling with a soft hum. Silence had fallen between them multiple times before, but it somehow felt more comfortable this time, even with Chanyeol still standing at the counter. Baekhyun found himself breaking the silence. “Why do you always order plain americanos? I can’t even begin to imagine how bitter they are without cream or sugar.”

“I don’t like sweet things, I guess,” Chanyeol shrugged.

“Candy?”

“No.”

“Chocolate?”

“Nope.”

“Not even milkshakes?”

“Only if I’d get to share it with you.” 

“Hey, just stop it already,” Baekhyun flushed. 

“Stop what?”

Baekhyun turned around to shoot Chanyeol a wary expression. “Flirting. It’s not appropriate. I’m not your soulmate.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Chanyeol looked hurt, his tone defensive. 

“Are you 21 yet?”

“I’ve been stuck on 21 for a while. But when my soulmate turns 21 too it’ll be worth the wait.” Chanyeol rested his head on his hand as he leaned on the counter. “How old are you, Baekhyun?”

“20, 21 in a month,” he answered almost too easily, mesmerized by Chanyeol’s intense stare.

“Ah, see? You could be my soulmate.”

“Doubt it,” Baekhyun broke their eye contact as he passed Chanyeol the coffee cup. Chanyeol took the cup but still didn’t leave the counter.

“Have you ever had Filipino street food before?”

“I haven’t had Filipino food before, period.”

“I know a great Filipino food vendor downtown, I eat there every Friday. You should come with me tonight.”

“I don’t know…” Baekhyun made the mistake of meeting Chanyeol’s eyes again. This time they were wide and pleading.

“Please?”    
  
Jongdae’s words echoed in his head.  _ “There’s nothing wrong with exploring the romance world a little before meeting your soulmate. Everyone does it!” _

“O-Okay.” 

Chanyeol lit up. “Great! What time does your shift end? We can walk there together.”

-

The walk there was nice, mostly due to the fact that Chanyeol was a very friendly person. He walked with vigor, though still slow enough for Baekhyun to keep up, and he filled any awkward silences with conversation concerning nothing in particular. Best of all, he listened to Baekhyun’s words so carefully and with so much interest, almost as if he was going to be tested on it later. Baekhyun couldn’t help but blush and accept the flower Chanyeol presented him with midway through their walk. 

They had arrived at the street vendor before they knew it. It had grown dark already, streetlights illuminating the area. Chanyeol led Baekhyun to a bench to wait as the taller bought their food.

“This is lumpia,” Chanyeol sat beside Baekhyun when he returned, handing him a roll-shaped food before placing a paper plate of other food between them.

“Is it, like, a Filipino egg roll?” Baekhyun held one up to catch the light of the street lamp above them. The sky was dark, but the bright evening stars and first quarter moon lit it up.

“I guess you can say that,” Chanyeol chuckled. “Try it, it’s good!” Hesitating a bit, Baekhyun bit into it with a soft crunch.

“Wah, it really is good,” Baekhyun covered his mouth with his hand as he ate, turning to Chanyeol to grin. What he didn’t expect is for Chanyeol’s eyes to be staring back at him, filled with emotion deeper than what Baekhyun could decipher. 

“I’m glad you think so.” The gaze held for a moment before Baekhyun turned away and Chanyeol cleared his throat loudly. “I also got some barbecue chicken skewers, they’re really good as well. I was debating whether or not to get the noodle dish, pancit, but here they serve it with zucchini here... I know it’s not the same thing as cucumbers but I decided not to risk it.” Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows at this. “I forgot to get drinks, but I can ask for some water if you want-”

“When did I tell you that I don’t like cucumbers?” 

Chanyeol froze for a moment before pulling on a smile that was too shaky to be genuine. “You mentioned it sometime before. Maybe you’re just not remembering correctly.”

“I guess not,” Baekhyun mumbled, his gut not feeling quite right. He finished his lumpia before picking up a chicken skewer. The two of them ate in a tense silence for a while, watching cars pass in the street in front of them. 

“I lived in the Philippines for a while, you know,” Chanyeol began, turning to face Baekhyun.

“Ah, really? Is that why you have such an attachment to this food vendor?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol smiled sheepishly. “It’s the most authentic vendor in the city.”

“I see,” Baekhyun bit his lip. “What made you move there?”

“I needed to escape, I guess. To learn a new culture, learn a new language. I met many great people there who helped me realize that I needed to come back. I still miss it, nonetheless,” Chanyeol sighed, leaning back on the bench. “There was a day in the first month that I lived there when one of the locals gifted me a book full of Filipino proverbs. None of which I could understand at the time, of course.

“I began to travel across the country, asking people for translations of each proverb and if they had a personal connection to the saying, learning the language along the way. I learned so many phrases and listened to so many stories, it just… gave me purpose again, I guess. So much so that I memorized the entire book of proverbs with their translations. I still remember the exact proverb that ignited something in me. ‘ _ Walang palayok na walang kasukat na tungtong. _ ’ ‘Every pot has a matching lid.’ It just reminded me that there’s someone out there for all of us, the same person in every lifetime,” Chanyeol smiled sadly. “I was so broken when I first got there. Just the reality of being stuck in an age limbo… it really took a toll on me, I suppose.”

“You mentioned earlier that you’ve been 21 for a while.”

“A long while.”

“How long?”

“I don’t think I can remember, actually,” Chanyeol leaned forward, pressing his face into his palms. “Every day I wake up hoping it’ll be the day I meet my soulmate again. I’m not the type of person who’s dreaming of the day I’ll meet the eyes of someone and get hit with that indescribable  _ pow  _ everybody’s talking about, and yet every day I’m praying that I’ll meet them. And it’s… well, to put it frankly, it’s hell. I’m not the most patient person when it comes to waiting for my soulmate, you see.” Chanyeol was shaking now, face still hidden in his hands. 

Baekhyun was frozen, listening intently to the pitiful story unfolding before him. His mind was going a hundred miles an hour as he internally panicked, trying to think of a way,  _ any  _ way, to comfort the man in front of him. He quickly moved the plate of food out from between them and scooted up to Chanyeol, wrapping an arm around him in a manner he hoped was comforting.

“Shh... it’s okay,” Baekhyun murmured, rubbing his hand reassuringly up and down Chanyeol’s back. Chanyeol was still shaking, though considerably less, and he eventually stopped with Baekhyun’s gentle comfort. “Please don’t cry. You’ll find your soulmate one day, I’m sure of it.” With this, Chanyeol suddenly looked up, red-rimmed eyes meeting Baekhyun’s own in a gaze of fondness before slowly leaning forward and capturing Baekhyun’s lips with his. 

They kissed softly with no heat, no rush. Chanyeol’s hand cupped the side of Baekhyun’s face, thumb rubbing tenderly. Baekhyun could feel his heart thumping in his chest because  _ oh my god, this is actually happening,  _ but it was over too soon when Chanyeol pulled away only just enough to disconnect their lips.

“I’ve already found him.” 

That caught Baekhyun by surprise, breaking him out of the daze of euphoria.

“W-What do you mean?”

“Do you trust me, Baek?” 

This was too sudden.

“ I-I don't know, Chanyeol. I... it depends on what you say, I guess... ”

“Then what if I told you that I can remember all of my previous incarnations?” Baekhyun removed his hands from Chanyeol’s back as Chanyeol sat up straighter.

“T-That’s impossible, I wouldn’t believe you!”

“It’s you, Baekhyun. You’re the one. You have a different name in each lifetime but the taste of your lips is unforgettable,” Chanyeol was leaning towards him again, eyes glossy with so much affection. “You, my soulmate. You, who I’ve waited so long to see again...” 

Suddenly they were too close for Baekhyun to breathe, his stomach dropping in a rush of unwarranted  déjà vu that he had never felt before . He didn’t know why, but he  _ needed to get out of there _ . He scooted away, but Chanyeol was still coming closer.

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“Nobody can remember their past lives, it’s scientifically proven to be impossible!”

“ _ I  _ can.”

“I- I’ve got to go.” 

Baekhyun had never run faster, the sound of Chanyeol’s voice calling after him only making him speed up. The flower he had been gifted earlier laid forgotten on the bench.

-

Baekhyun stayed home sick from work the next day. And the next day. And the next day. 

Jongdae and Minseok, who he also shared a house with, came by whenever they had breaks, often bearing some kind of drink or pastry they knew Baekhyun liked. They were both aware that he wasn’t really sick, but they also knew that the chance of him telling them what was up was slim. Despite priding themselves as being best friends, they knew Baekhyun still kept things from them. Jongdae still tried nonetheless. It wasn’t until day four of his sick days that Jongdae entered his house with a flower that Baekhyun finally spilled.

“This,” Jongdae shoved the single flower in Baekhyun’s face, “is from Chanyeol. He’s been coming in the past couple of days looking for you. He looks so sad to see that you’re not there. Are you avoiding him?”

“No,” Baekhyun said too quickly to be convincing. Jongdae raised an eyebrow, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “...Maybe.”

“Tell mama Dae what’s up,” Jongdae pulled Baekhyun into his side and Baekhyun rested his head on his shoulder. With a heavy sigh, Baekhyun took the flower gingerly.

“Chanyeol took me to this street food vendor the other day for dinner.”

“As a date?”

“I think so.”

“Did it go badly?”

“Well, not exactly,” Baekhyun didn’t meet Jongdae’s eyes, instead opting on rolling the flower stem between his fingers. “The food was good, the sky was pretty, and he gave me a beautiful flower. But then he got a bit emotional and he... he told me that he remembers his past lives.” Jongdae paused at this.

“That’s scientifically impossible,” he scoffed after a moment.

“That’s what _ I  _ said.”

“So is that why you’re avoiding him? Because he’s lying about remembering his past lives?”

“There’s more.”

“Oh?”

“He said that I’m his soulmate.”

“Oh,” it fell silent. “What did you do?”

“I ran.”

“I don’t blame you.”    
  


“But Jongdae, it was strange. More than strange. The feeling in my gut, it was as if I had been in that situation before even though I hadn’t. I couldn’t breathe. I just had to run.” Jongdae seemed to be searching for things to say. 

“That really is strange. But… do you believe him? That you’re his soulmate and that he remembers his past lives?” Baekhyun hesitated.

“I want to believe him,” he admitted, staring at his hands. “He doesn’t seem like the type of person that would lie, but maybe that’s just the type of person I want him to be. The logical part of my brain is saying that he’s just a good actor.”

“Do you like him? Do you want to see him again?”

Baekhyun flushed at the question. “I-I don’t know. I guess so? I don’t  _ dis _ like him, at least. Even though he’s psycho it… it was really nice. Something I hadn’t ever experienced before.” Baekhyun felt weird sharing his feelings in explicit detail. There was another small silence.

“Want to know what I think, Baek?” Jongdae asked tentatively, clearly thinking about his next words carefully. Baekhyun nodded quickly in response. “I think it’s messed up for him to say that he’s your soulmate. But if you really genuinely like him, then I think you shouldn’t worry about it for now. Whether or not he’s actually your soulmate, I mean. You’ll find out if he is or not when you first see him on or after your birthday. No  _ pow _ feeling? Not your soulmate. There’s no point fretting over it now when there’s a definitive answer down the road.”

“You’re… you’re right,” Baekhyun shook his head as he smiled into his friend’s shoulder. “Since when did you get so good at giving advice? I thought that was Minseok’s job.”

“Minseok’s been rubbing off on me, I guess. He  _ is _ my soulmate, after all,” he grinned in response. Baekhyun felt his grin waiver slightly at the mention of his other best friend. It wasn’t because he had something against Minseok; in fact, it was quite the opposite, as he loved Jongdae and Minseok equally. He just didn’t see the reason as to why Jongdae and Minseok had to mention the fact that they’re soulmates every time they have the opportunity to. It never failed to make his stomach uneasy and his mood drop.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a long time was Baekhyun stared at the flower in his hand. It was the same type of flower Chanyeol had given him the day before; an orangey red ring of petals with a deep black center, bright next to dark, in an almost eerie way. Despite his complete and utter lack of knowledge about flowers, it somehow felt so familiar to him.

“Jongdae, what do poppies symbolize?”

“A poppy? So that’s what that flower is?” Jongdae turned to look down at the small flower, still pressed between Baekhyun’s fingertips. “I’m not well versed in flowers so I’m not sure. Apologies, maybe? Chanyeol feels bad for scaring you off, after all.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Baekhyun nodded, still staring at the delicate flower. “Should I go back to work tomorrow?” he thought aloud to himself.

“Well  _ I _ think you should. Minseok and I have been so lonely without you! Well, that’s a lie, but we really do miss you!” Jongdae added when Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. He maneuvered Baekhyun’s head off his shoulder and onto the couch gently before standing up. “I have to go right now, the café’s about to get busy again. Take the rest of the day off to rest, but you better come to work with us tomorrow with your hair combed and your gay-ass apron on!”

“Count on it.”

-

“Welcome to  _ The One _ café, what would you like to order?” 

“An americano, please. No cream or sugar. And can I speak to Baekhyun, please?”

Minseok glanced over his shoulder at Baekhyun, who was wiping down the top of their espresso machine. “Unfortunately he’s not available right now-”

“I’m available,” Baekhyun turned around. Minseok shot him a worried look but moved away from the register to prepare the order nonetheless. Baekhyun took his place. “Hi, Chanyeol,” he greeted in a wary tone.

“H-Hi, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol’s words were rushed. “Did you get the flower? Listen, about our outing-”

“Don’t make any excuses or try to take your words back. It’s clear you take me to be a fool, but I’ll have you know that you’re wrong.” 

“I stand by my words. And I don’t take you to be a fool at all, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol’s eye contact faltered. “I-It was just too sudden, right? I should’ve waited to tell you but I just couldn’t. Can you imagine how I felt, Baekhyun? Meeting my soulmate again after so long when I can remember everything we had done in past lives like it was yesterday but having to wait until he turns 21 to tell him?” He spoke too loudly, causing a few other people in the café over in both curiosity and annoyance. “And then you stopped coming to work, was I to think you would start avoiding me forever?” 

“To be quite frank, Chanyeol, I don’t believe you in the slightest. Can you stop being so damn selfish and imagine how  _ I  _ feel? To have a person I met only a few days ago tell me that he remembers his past lives and that I’m his soulmate?” Baekhyun snapped.

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way,” and Chanyeol did look genuinely sorry. “You don’t have to believe me. Not right now, anyway. But I’ll make you believe me eventually, Baekhyun. Until then, can we try this again? This whole going out thing?”

_ No _ , was the immediate response from somewhere in the back of Baekhyun’s head. The rushed, sinking feeling of adrenaline in his stomach was back again for a reason Baekhyun still couldn’t understand.  _ Say no, say no, say no, say no. _

“Please?”

_ Say no, say no, say no, say no- _

“I promise I won’t pull anything sudden like that on you again!”

_ Say no, say no, say no, say no- _

“I-I really like you…”

_ Say no, say no, say no, say no- _

“Fine,” Baekhyun sighed, though it was no match for Chanyeol’s responding beam, that of which he mentally compared to the rays of the sun. “But just so you know, I’m taking everything you say from now on with a grain of salt.” Baekhyun scribbled down his number on a napkin and handed it to Chanyeol alongside his americano that Minseok had just finished making.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Baekhyun?” Minseok asked when Chanyeol moved away to sit down at a table. “Saying that he remembers his past lives isn’t just a small and insignificant lie.”

“If he’s lying I’ll find out in a month’s time. It’ll all work out in the end, don’t worry about me,” Baekhyun reassured him. 

-

“I can’t ice skate, Chanyeol.”

“Sure you can!” Chanyeol replied cheerily as he paid for their entry. The teen working behind the counter blew a large pink bubble with her gum as she handed them tickets for the skate rentals.

“No, I really can’t,” Baekhyun hoped the desperation in his voice was evident. The only time he had gone ice skating before was when he was seven, and it wasn’t a very good experience, to say the least. The ice was too hard, the arena too cold, the skates too sharp as they slashed his leg when he landed at a bad angle as he fell.  _ Never again _ , he had promised himself as he laid in the hospital bed, stitches in his leg.  _ Never again. _ And yet here he was.

“You can do anything if you put your mind to it!” Chanyeol grinned, leading Baekhyun up to a different counter to get their skates.

“Easy for you to say, you fucking optimist,” Baekhyun mumbled under his breath.

“What’s wrong with being an optimist?” Chanyeol feigned offense, but there was genuine question in his voice.

“Too hopeful, too overconfident, too high of expectations. It makes you easily disappointed,” Baekhyun shrugged. “I’d rather stay where I am in my sorry pit of pessimism. At least then I can be surprised when something good happens.”

“Ah, you’re too cynical, Baek. But opposites attract,” Chanyeol grinned cheekily at Baekhyun's scandalized look before turning to the worker manning the counter. “Size 11 and a half, please.”

“Size 7 for me,” Baekhyun added. After a moment of searching for their sizes, the worker handed them their skates and the duo were off to sit down.

“Your feet are really small,” Chanyeol giggled as he took off one of his ginormous shoes and placed it right next to Baekhyun’s to compare.

“Only compared to yours,” Baekhyun knocked his shoe away with a snort. “Please don’t tell me you have a foot fetish…”

“Of course not!” Chanyeol’s face appeared criminalized. “And even if I did, you would be into it.”

Baekhyun smirked and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”

“We’re soulmates, remember?”

Baekhyun’s grin dropped as soon as he processed Chanyeol’s words. He settled for replying with a dismissive hum, suddenly very concentrated on putting his skates on his feet as his stomach fell to the floor.

“What’s with that response?” Chanyeol sounded deflated. Baekhyun just shrugged before moving onto tying the laces, frustrated when they didn’t come out tight enough no matter how hard he pulled them. 

And then Chanyeol was there kneeling in front of him, removing Baekhyun’s hands to take the laces into his own. 

Baekhyun wanted to bat him away, but as much as he hated to admit it, he did genuinely need help. The taller pulled hard on the laces until the material it was interlaced with rested flush against Baekhyun’s foot, tying a simple knot before doing the same to the other skate. When he was done, he looked up at Baekhyun’s tomato colored face with a toothy grin.

“How’s the weather up there?”

Rolling his eyes, Baekhyun held out a hand to help him up, a gesture which the taller did not refuse. 

Chanyeol quickly tied the laces of his own skates before standing again, motioning for Baekhyun to follow him over to the rink. Baekhyun stood cautiously and followed at a very slow speed, finding the unfamiliar wobble of his skates underneath his feet to be a terrifying sensation. But Chanyeol was patient, slowing his own balanced steps down long enough for Baekhyun to keep pace. They made it to the rink too soon, Baekhyun not yet mentally prepared to make a fool of himself in fear that he would end up at the hospital again with a huge bandage on his leg.

Chanyeol took his first steps onto the ice before immediately pushing off and gliding 5 feet away, changing his footing to do some kind of fancy turn that let him face Baekhyun again. “C’mon!” he called.

Feeding himself a hollow sense of confidence, Baekhyun took one step onto the ice before promptly falling onto his ass.

“Ow,” he mumbled, pain blatant on his face. Chanyeol immediately came skating over, looking concerned.

“Baek, are you okay?” He held out a hand to help him up.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Baekhyun groaned, ignoring the hand as opposed to using the wall to pull himself up instead. “I told you that I can’t skate, Chanyeol.” Though Baekhyun intended it as a lighthearted comment, Chanyeol suddenly looked guilty, his eyes downcast and mouth pulled in a tight line.

“You really can’t, I guess…” Chanyeol’s lip wobbled as if he was about to cry and he turned his head away. “Sorry for making you do this…”  _ Shit _ .

“Y-You can teach me how, though!” the words fell out of Baekhyun’s mouth without any thought. He just wanted the crestfallen look on Chanyeol’s face to fall away in place of a happy one. Sure enough, the taller’s expression brightened immediately as he let out a small laugh.

“Me teaching you to skate, how ironic. I’d be honored to,” he grabbed Baekhyun’s hand, about to push off again with Baekhyun at his side before hesitating. “Is this… okay?”

Baekhyun looked down at Chanyeol’s grip on his hand. The latter’s hand was huge. His fingers were thick and calloused (A result of playing the guitar? He made a mental note to ask), a direct contrast from Baekhyun’s own thin and supple ones. Chanyeol’s hand was also warm. Very warm, also different from Baekhyun whose hands had been pressed up against the freezing metal of the walls a moment prior. Boldy, Baekhyun shifted their hands so their fingers were laced through each other. Though he would never say so to Chanyeol, it just felt so  _ right _ . Like two puzzle pieces being put together to create the finished picture.

“...Yeah. Very okay.”

“Great!” They exchanged a smile before Chanyeol pushed off, making sure to keep Baekhyun balanced as they glided over the many small indentations in the ice that marked the paths of the people who had skated there before them. Baekhyun still struggled with his steadiness; it was a whole 10 minutes before he gathered the courage to replicate Chanyeol’s movements and push off. Their pace was excruciatingly slow for most, even small children had to maneuver around them. But it was perfect for Baekhyun, and therefore was perfect for Chanyeol too. 

Soon enough, everyone had to move off the rink to make way for the zamboni that came on to resurface the ice. Chanyeol bought them hot chocolate and mini donuts to share from the concessions stand before they had a seat on a bench near the rink, watching as the huge machine drove around in slow and regulated laps, leaving a trail of smoothed ice behind it.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun started, and the taller hummed in reply. “Earlier when you said it would be ironic for you to teach me to skate… what exactly did you mean that?” Chanyeol tapped his chin as if he was thinking of the most meaningful way to reply.

“Hm, it happened a few lifetimes ago, a life when I met you while ice skating,” Chanyeol replied in a soft voice.  _ Not  _ this _ again _ . Baekhyun’s initial reaction was to roll his eyes, but there was a spark of genuine curiosity that stopped him from doing so. He told himself that he’d hear him out just this once.

“How did it happen?”

“I was stuck at 21 and a damn clumsy skater. You were 18 and the regional figure skating champion. I fell into you while you were practicing your routine for the next competition, and we both landed pretty hard,” Chanyeol laughed at this, though his laughter was slightly bittersweet. “You were really mad, it was your first time going through the routine with no flaws and I had just ruined it. You didn’t want to see my face in that rink ever again. You told me to leave and never come back. There’s a certain proverb that seems relevant every time I think back to it; ‘ _ Kung pukulin ka ng bato, tinapay ang iganti mo. _ ’ ‘If someone throws stones at you, throw back bread.’

“I only began to go there more often, if not to practice my own skating then to see you. It made you angry at first, but you couldn’t exactly stop me. I even went to the tournament you were practicing for. It was a really tough competition and you got 7th place out of 10 skaters. Despite your disappointment, I congratulated you afterwards anyway. It was sometime around then that you offered to help me with my skating. Through your instruction, I went from being a mess on the ice to an almost-pro.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s really sweet, actually,” Baekhyun responded, his tone genuine, suddenly finding the humor in Chanyeol’s comment about it being ironic. “Did you tell me that we were soulmates before I turned of age?” 

“It was so hard to be patient, I had to eventually,” Chanyeol shook his head with a smile. “You had just turned 19 when I told you.”

“How did I react?’

“You were happy. Of course there was doubt at first; there always is, and rightfully so. You can never be too cautious. But by looking at my past lives, I’ve learned that even before you’re 21, you still feel a certain pull towards your soulmate. Things just feel  _ right _ .”  _ Kind of like they do right now _ .

“Do you always tell me so soon?” 

“Quite the contrary. In fact, I never tell you soon enough.”

The silence they sat in was soft and without tension, Chanyeol’s thumb rubbing Baekhyun’s hand, and Baekhyun relishing in it. The zamboni finished its rounds and they were the first people back on the ice, the surface now smooth and less difficult for Baekhyun to glide over. They skated together until the gibbous moon was high in the sky, glaring down at them from the glass ceiling of the arena. Baekhyun only fell once more that night when he was laughing at a dumb joke Chanyeol had made, but this time he didn’t reject the taller’s assistance in standing up.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Chanyeol suddenly said sometime between their skating. He reached into his coat pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding Baekhyun’s and produce a familiar red flower; another poppy. He held it out to Baekhyun, eyes a bit nervous. “Y-You left your flower on the bench last time when you, um, ran away. I bought you a new one. I didn’t know if you still want it, or if you even like flowers in the first place, but...”

“I love flowers,” Baekhyun took the poppy into his own hand, his heart a pile of mush at the taller’s sweet gesture. “And I do still want it. Thank you for being so thoughtful, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol grinned. “Only for you, Baekhyun.”

As their hands continued to share warmth, Baekhyun thought that he could really enjoy ice skating again in the future, but only with Chanyeol.

-

The next time they met up outside of the café was at a park on a day that was almost too perfect to be April. The color of the grass was the brightest Baekhyun had ever seen it, the sky empty save for a few wispy clouds. The sun was out and it warmed the earth, a breeze only strong enough to rustle the leaves on the trees rolling through.

“I come here pretty often when it’s nice out. It’s beautiful, right?” Chanyeol grinned as he timidly gripped his picnic basket. 

“Definitely. I can’t believe I haven’t been to this park before,” Baekhyun replied in awe.

“You just don’t go outside enough, Baek,” Chanyeol giggled, his eyes shrunken down to thin crescents. Baekhyun wasn’t about to deny it. Instead, he playfully hit him before he Chanyeol’s hand and tugged him forward. 

“Let’s find somewhere to sit, yeah?” Baekhyun usually wasn’t the one to take charge, but he liked the effect it had on Chanyeol. His face was now a light pink, fingers gripping onto the picnic basket for dear life as Baekhyun led him down the path. After a few minutes of comfortable walking, they came across a patch of grass shaded by a huge tree that overlooked a small pond filled with water lilies.

“This looks good,” Chanyeol set the basket down. Baekhyun hummed in agreement as Chanyeol pulled a blanket out from the basket, letting it flap in the wind for a moment before laying it flat on the ground. The two collapsed on the blanket, admiring the view of the green grass and pond.

“What else is in there?” Baekhyun inquired.

“Two more things, actually,” Chanyeol lifted the flap of the basket, peering in and searching around for a moment before producing a poppy and holding it out to Baekhyun. “First of all, a flower.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Baekhyun accepted the flower bashfully, holding it to his nose timidly before tucking it behind his ear. Chanyeol blatantly stared at Baekhyun for a moment too long, clearing his throat loudly when the other noticed.

“And second of all, lunch! Prepared by yours truly,” Chanyeol proudly produced two saran-wrapped sandwiches and soft drinks, handing one of each to Baekhyun.

“Wonderful, I was getting hungry,” the smaller beamed back, unwrapping it immediately. Their first few bites were taken in silence, listening to the quiet hum of nature. It was a silence Baekhyun almost regretted breaking. “So, tell me more about yourself, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol swallowed the food that was in his mouth. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, generic stuff I guess. What kind of job do you have that allows you to come to the café every day at the same time like clockwork?”

Chanyeol grinned, leaning forward as if he was about to tell a precious secret. “I compose and produce music.” 

“Wow, really?” Baekhyun was genuinely taken by surprise. “Have you produced or composed for someone I know?”

“Depends, do you know Do Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol smirked when Baekhyun all but choked.

“ _ Do I know Do Kyungsoo _ ?!” Baekhyun sputtered. “He’s my favorite ballad singer, his songs are practically all we play in the café! Surely you’ve heard it. I feel betrayed, how come you’ve been keeping this secret from me?!”

“Hardly a secret,” Chanyeol scrunched his nose teasingly. “You just never asked. My turn! What’s your favorite… flavor of slushie?”

“Really digging deep there,” Baekhyun snorted. “Blue raspberry, no doubt.”

“Really? I pegged you as more of a cola slushie type of guy.” 

“Well what’s  _ your _ favorite flavor, you filthy elitist?”

“Cherry.”

“Gross. But opposites attract, I guess,” Baekhyun winked, internally cackling as Chanyeol’s face was once again dusted with pink.

They talked long into the afternoon, talked until their throats grew scratchy from exchanging answers to numerous mundane as well as more significant questions. They chatted long after their sandwiches were eaten and long after the wispy clouds in the sky were replaced with thick, dark cumulonimbus ones.

The rain was light and soothing, nothing worth leaving their comfortable spot under the tree over, but it was also cold. The two huddled together, folding the half of the blanket they weren’t using over them for extra warmth and protection from the few drops that did make it past the leaves overhead. Baekhyun never fully comprehended how truly nice Chanyeol’s torso was until he was leaning against it, ear pressed to hear the taller’s steady heartbeat. Chanyeol’s ginormous hand was in Baekhyun’s hair, stroking and twisting the soft locks between his fingertips. The tranquil atmosphere made Baekhyun realize how truly tired he was. Not physically, but mentally. 

Tired of struggling. Tired of worrying. Tired of stress. Tired of disappointment. Tired of being alone. Tired of watching everyone around him be able to rest easy, loving someone and definitively being loved in return. 

Tired.

“There was a life where we met in the rain,” Chanyeol murmured into Baekhyun’s ear, just loud enough to be heard over the pitter-patter.

“Why were we in the rain?”

“You were looking for your cat who had slipped out the door when you had opened it. I was walking home from work and I helped you search for her.” Baekhyun hummed. 

“Did we ever end up finding my cat?”

“No. You cried for days afterwards, it was heartbreaking to watch.”

“Did you tell me that we were soulmates?” Baekhyun near whispered.

“I did about a month later.”

“Did I believe you?”

“No,” Chanyeol whispered the word crisply, like the staccato note on the piano that ends the piece. 

“I see.” The rain suddenly felt colder. “How often do I initially believe you, Chanyeol?”

“About a fifth of the time.”

“Then why do you keep bluntly telling me before I’m 21 and making me think you’re deranged? You shouldn’t have to fight to convince me when the answer will eventually be in our hearts when our eyes meet. So why? Why do you do it? Why do you hurt yourself?”

There was a pause before Chanyeol answered. Baekhyun could hear his heartbeat momentarily spike, falling out of rhythm. Something in Baekhyun’s gut made him grow uneasy, though it fell away when Chanyeol finally replied.

“What point is there in wasting time that we could be spending happy and together? Every moment is precious. I'm not a patient person, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol spoke carefully. 

It was then when a large crack of thunder rang overhead. The rain came down harder, more of it leaking through the crevices of the leaves onto Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s heads.

“Where there’s thunder, there’s lightning. I think that’s our cue to leave,” Chanyeol chuckled, patting Baekhyun’s head one final time before removing his hand altogether.

“Right,” Baekhyun grimaced. But Baekhyun didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to relinquish his place leaning against Chanyeol’s chest. He wanted to listen to the gentle and steady thump of his heart forever. However, not his willpower nor Chanyeol’s body heat could prevent him from shivering violently at the increased precipitation. He carefully tucked the poppy flower Chanyeol had given him into his jacket pocket to keep it safe.

They ran through the rain, each with one hand on the picnic basket between them and the other raising the blanket above their heads. Baekhyun’s arm was fully extended whereas Chanyeol’s wasn’t at all to accommodate to their gaping difference in height. Laughter was exchanged between the two as the blanket flapped wildly behind them like a superhero’s cape. 

Baekhyun was very tired indeed. But somehow, Chanyeol made him less tired.

-

“Baek, we’re out of Colombian coffee beans out here. Can you go grab a new bag in the back? They’re on the top of the shelf.” Jongdae called from where he was tending to the orders of a few college students.

“On it,” Baekhyun replied in a singsong voice, setting down his washcloth. 

It had been a particularly amazing week for Baekhyun, possibly the best in his life. Every day after work he had gone out with Chanyeol to various restaurants of his choosing, restaurants that he had always wanted to go to but never really had anyone to go with. It was weird going intimate places like restaurants with Jongdae and Minseok. But they were really the only ones with whom he had gone places with, with whom he experienced life with. Finally being away from them was like being gifted a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room.

Chanyeol was the only one who knew how Baekhyun truly felt about Jongdae and Minseok. He had found out after inquiring about why Baekhyun was so reluctant to return home to his own house after their dinner date. They sat on a bench and Baekhyun talked. Talked about how they were inseparable in high school, how they had decided to open their café together, how they shared a house, how they did everything together, and how Baekhyun felt when his two best friends found out they were soulmates.

“I was happy for them, how could I not be?” Baekhyun whispered above the sounds of the city’s night. “But seeing them hug each other that morning, staring into each other’s eyes as they pulled away… I had never felt so alone before. It’s been a year and yet that feeling of loneliness that never fails to surface when I’m with them hasn’t gone away. And sometimes the loneliness combines with something else inside of me, and I feel almost spiteful towards them.” Talking about his feelings always made Baekhyun feel anxious, but there was something about seeing Chanyeol’s attentive nodding that gave him the courage to continue speaking. “I still love them. They’re still my best friends. But I think I’m... jealous? Is that the emotion? Jealousy? And maybe that’s why I like you so much even though you’re, well, lying about remembering your past lives. I can forget about them when I’m with you, and being forgetful is addicting.”

Baekhyun had felt the weight of his detrimental thoughts being lifted off his shoulders for the first time as Chanyeol strung an arm behind him, pulling them close together. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay? Jealousy is normal for us human beings, you’re not being a bad friend by wanting to forget about them for a while,” Chanyeol had said soothingly before leaning down to plant a kiss on Baekhyun’s forehead. “You don’t need to feel lonely anymore because I’m here for you now. Even if you doubt me, I’ll be here for you. You doubt me at least a little in every lifetime but I promise that there’s no reason for me to deceive you. I love you more than you can ever comprehend, Baekhyun.”

Just thinking about Chanyeol’s words made Baekhyun’s heart beat faster. He had thought about them all morning and night, failing to suppress the smiles the memory brought about. He found himself smiling yet again as he went to fetch the bag of coffee beans Jongdae had requested. The clinking of ceramic mugs hitting the table and quiet hum of Do Kyungsoo’s background ballads disappeared as soon as he stepped into the back room, an unfamiliar silence lacing the air. Grabbing a step stool, he unfolded it and positioned it on the base of the shelf. However, despite this, the bag of coffee beans was still far from his reach.

“How the hell did it even get up there in the first place?” Baekhyun grumbled to himself as he did his best to reach higher. 

_ Chanyeol could probably reach that _ , his mind chimed in.  _ Chanyeol... _

“Snap out of it, you dip,” Baekhyun hit himself in the face lightly with his unextended hand. “Now isn’t the time to be thinking about him.”

Baekhyun made his last attempt to reach higher, though to no avail. The heels of his feet slowly lifted up, giving him a bit more height, though not quite enough. Baekhyun began to lift the balls of his feet up too, a little less resting on the stool with each passing second. The step stool squeaked in protest, though this didn’t stop him from raising his foot  _ just  _ a little more until it was just his toes keeping him steady. Baekhyun was  _ almost there _ , his fingertips grazing the bag of coffee, and he was about to grab it until-

_ CRASH! _

“FUCK,” Baekhyun yelped loudly, now on the ground. A sharp, unrelenting pain lanced through his wrist. The step stool had collapsed; it was now looped around one of his legs with the metal pressing against his bone in a way that  _ hurt _ . The door that led to the café area opened with a bang.

“What happened? Shit, are you okay?” Jongdae rushed to Baekhyun’s side, frantically scanning him for injuries.

“It was just a little fall, don’t worry-”

“MINSEOK!” Jongdae called, not listening.

“I’m fine, seriously. You don’t need to call him in-”

“What’s wrong?” Minseok rushed in through the same doors, eyes widening when they landed on Baekhyun’s sprawled on the concrete floor. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Like I said, I’m completely fine. Go and man the counter,” Baekhyun reached forward to take the stepping stool off of his leg because damn, it was  _ really  _ starting to hurt his shin, but this action was met with a sharp intake of air from both Jongdae and Minseok.

“Your wrist…”

Baekhyun looked down at his wrist. It was already beginning to swell, skin tainted in a way that promised a nasty purple bruise later. He hissed when Minseok reached a gentle hand out to touch it and immediately jerked it away with a loud cry when he tried to rotate it.

“I-Is it broken?” Baekhyun babbled frantically.

“I don’t believe so, I think it’s just sprained.” Though Minseok’s words were intended to be reassuring, Baekhyun’s pained and panicked expression didn’t falter.

“Do I need to go to the hospital?” 

“No, sprained wrists are self-treatable,” Minseok stood up, wasting no time by jogging to the door. “I’m gonna go pick up a wrist brace at the convenience store. Until I get back, ice it!”

-

Accurate to Minseok’s diagnosis, his wrist was indeed sprained, and painfully so. Baekhyun had never suffered any injuries like broken arms or sprained ankles as a child, so while a sprained wrist is able to heal within a few days, he was still unused to the tear-jerking soreness that came with it. Minseok was insistent that he would be spending those few days at home and relaxing. As Minseok’s parents were doctors and raised him with first aid knowledge, nobody dared to argue with him.

Like the last time Baekhyun was at home sick, Jongdae and Minseok dropped in from time to time to bring him a pastry or drink, check the tightness of his splint, and ask him how he’s doing. He would nod and plaster on a fake smile of reassurance, one of which screamed  _ I’m perfectly okay _ that he would drop as soon as they would walk out the door.

Baekhyun was lonely, but he didn’t particularly want Jongdae or Minseok’s presence. He wanted Chanyeol to be there instead, to give him attention, to fret about him, to stroke his hair, to hold his hand, to encase him in a tight hug. Dammit, why did he have to go and sprain his wrist before Chanyeol came in for his daily americano? Maybe he really could’ve asked for Chanyeol’s help reaching the coffee beans...

Shaking off the thought (though not entirely over it), Baekhyun turned his attention back to the 14th episode of Pokemon Indigo League on his laptop. He may have been lonely, but at least he had Netflix. 

He was nearly done with the episode when there was a frantic knock on his door.

Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows, hitting the spacebar to pause the show. It wasn’t Jongdae nor Minseok, as they would’ve just let themselves in; it’s their house too, after all. It was probably just a package delivery, and as far as Baekhyun’s concerned, the delivery guy can leave it there.

Initially intending to ignore it, he resumed the show only to have the character’s voices drowned out with more obscenely loud knocking that only grew more insistent. He finally sat up with a frustrated sigh, moving the laptop off of his lap and sliding into his fuzzy slippers before lumbering over to the door.

“They aren’t home right now,” he grumbled as he opened the door just a small crack, not even bothering to see who was there before beginning to close it again. “You can leave it by the door-”

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun knew that smooth, deep voice. He paused, opening the door wide, this time taking the care to see who it was.

“Chanyeol?”

It was indeed the giant, looking jittery with wide eyes and a frantic expression, hands tightly gripping a large bouquet of flowers. He stopped rocking back and forth on his heels to scan Baekhyun’s figure, orbs coming to a stop at the splint encasing his wrist.

“Y-Your wrist. I mean, I heard about it. What happened. To it. Your wrist. I heard about what happened to your wrist,” Chanyeol stumbled through his words, cheeks rising in color. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Baekhyun smiled softly, and Chanyeol seemed to calm down, looking less on edge. “How did you know I live here?”

“Minseok to told me. You guys are roommates, after all.”

“Yeah, uh, do you want to come in?”

“I would like that, thank you,” Chanyeol grinned, stepping into the household when Baekhyun moved aside before suddenly holding out the bouquet he was clutching. “Oh, this is for you! ‘Get well soon’ flowers, if you will.”

“Thank you,” Baekhyun accepted the flowers and held them up to his nose. They were poppies again, the usual ominous bright red. “They’re as pretty as ever.”

“Glad to hear it,” Chanyeol beamed. He followed Baekhyun to the kitchen and helped him bring down a vase from another high shelf, filling it with water and gingerly placing the poppies into it. The two stood to admire their (Chanyeol’s) work as it sat in the middle of the counter, effectively brightening up the room.

Baekhyun didn’t notice Chanyeol was inching over to him until his arms were engulfing Baekhyun’s smaller form from behind. He basked in the feeling of Chanyeol’s head resting on his shoulder, more so when the taller began to hum a soft ballad into his ear. Baekhyun recognized it to be “Crying Out” by Do Kyungsoo, absentmindedly wondering if Chanyeol was the one who wrote it. Sunlight leaked in through the windows over their embracing forms, and Baekhyun forgot completely about the throbbing pain in his wrist. This was just what he had wanted.

It was peaceful.

“There was a life where we met surrounded by flowers,” Chanyeol started, a soft hum in the silence. “I was a florist. You came into my shop with your brother, helping him pick out flowers for his wedding. I managed to catch you alone and gave you a red chrysanthemum, ‘I love you’ in flower language. I didn’t tell you what it meant, of course, and the internet didn’t exist for you to research it. But it sparked our relationship from there.” Baekhyun’s heart lurched. He didn’t respond verbally, but with Chanyeol, he didn’t need to.

The logical side of him knew that it was wrong.  _ Stop falling for his words! _ it writhed in frustration.  _ Can’t you see he’s tricking you? Nobody can remember their past incarnations, it’s all a lie! _ But even if it was a lie, being with Chanyeol was too pleasurable for Baekhyun to give up.

“Chanyeol…” Baekhyun started cautiously. 

“Hm?”

“You creeped me out the first few times you went into the cafe.” It was an honest confession, something he had been meaning to say for a long time, and yet he couldn’t help but smile as Chanyeol burst out laughing into his shoulder.

“Creeped you out?” Chanyeol giggled. “Why?”

“Because you kept on staring at me when I was trying to make your coffee, you creep!” Baekhyun hit the taller’s head playfully. “You didn’t have the decency to sit down when I asked you to, or to even pretend to be looking at your phone at the very least!”

“I just really wanted to look at you, to tell you the truth,” Chanyeol confessed when their laughing died down, resting his head back down on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “After being on the lookout for you for all of my life, you had finally appeared in front of me when I expected it the least! The moment we made eye contact I just knew that you were the person I have seen in the distant memories of my past lives.” He layed a chaste kiss on Baekhyun’s collarbone. “You can’t blame me for wanting to stare. It felt like my heart was going to burst and I thought you’d disappear if I looked away.”

It was silent again, but Baekhyun could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He hated to break up the peace, but they couldn’t stand in the kitchen forever.

“Do you want to watch Pokemon with me?” Baekhyun mumbled, words probably slurred beyond what most could comprehend, but Chanyeol was close enough to hear him.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Baekhyun led Chanyeol to his room, both wriggling under the thick layer of blankets as Baekhyun opened up his laptop to resume the episode. He snuggled into Chanyeol’s chest as subtly as he could, Chanyeol’s chin resting on top of his head. Baekhyun felt like a teddy bear, so small in Chanyeol’s warm embrace. It was nice. Beyond nice.

Somewhere around their 3rd episode together, Chanyeol decided to plant a soft kiss on Baekhyun’s forehead. The gentle gesture only escalated from there, Baekhyun grabbing Chanyeol’s neck and pulling him down to connect their lips. This kiss was different from the first one that they had shared underneath the streetlights; it was more heated, more lustful, and more passionate. It was like this for a while, them moving their mouths with fever. Baekhyun shifted to allow easier access to Chanyeol’s lips, moving so he was sitting on the latter’s lap. The taller groaned, sneaking his hand under Baekhyun’s shirt and splaying it across the expanse of his chest, making Baekhyun gasp and kiss him even more enthusiastically. 

“Hey, Baekhyun! I brought you a co- Oh, Chanyeol, you’re here too,” Jongdae stood in the doorway with a slightly sour expression, watching as the couple frantically jumped apart.

“H-Hi, Jongdae,” Baekhyun gulped. “Uh, we were, uh-”

“Watching Pokemon,” Chanyeol cut in.

Baekhyun nodded quickly. “Right. We were watching Pokemon.”

“Watching Pokemon, making out, whatever you kids call it these days,” Jongdae’s expression remained uncharacteristically stoic as he leaned against the door frame. Baekhyun couldn’t miss the sharp edge in his tone. “Sorry to break up the hanky panky. I just came to check up on you and bring you a cookie, Baekhyun, but you two are obviously busy, so I’ll just leave it here and be on my way-”

“No, I'll leave instead, Jongdae,” Chanyeol stood up from the bed. “It’s your house, it’s not fair of me to make you go.”

_ No, don’t go _ , Baekhyun longed to say.  _ Stay right here with me.  _ But he seldom voiced his desires, instead smiling bashfully when Chanyeol turned back around to face him.

“ _ ‘Ang kalusugan ay kayamanan _ ,’ ‘Health is wealth.’ Get well soon, yeah?”

“I will,” Baekhyun promised. And he meant it.

Chanyeol left and Baekhyun’s heart ached, but there was no time to dwell on it because then Jongdae was by his side, handing him a brown paper bag.

“It’s chocolate chip, your favorite” Jongdae mumbled as Baekhyun opened it, taking out a cookie and indulging himself in a huge first bite.

“Thanks, Dae. I really appreciate it.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Does your wrist hurt much?”

“Just a little.”

“There are flowers in the kitchen.”

“I know, Chanyeol brought them.”

Jongdae hesitated a bit before asking his next question. “Who gave Chanyeol our address?”

“Minseok.”

“I see.”

“Yep.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

“I guess I’ll head back to the café now, then,” Jongdae stood up. “Sorry to make Chanyeol clear out when I was only going to be here a little while.”

_ Yeah,  _ Baekhyun wanted to say.  _ I’m sorry too _ . “Really, there’s no need to apologize. He was probably going to leave soon anyway.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll see you later in the evening, Baek. Make sure to elevate your wrist above heart level. It reduces swelling, you know.”

“Will do.”

-

A few days passed and Baekhyun was back working, wrist finally free of the horrors of the splint. He quickly fell back into the normal routine of work, home, sleep. Jongdae’s resonating whines, Minseok’s quirky humor, and Chanyeol’s daily americano.

It was boring, but a comfortable and familiar boring.

“Let’s go to the mall,” Minseok suddenly proposed one day as they were closing up the shop, Baekhyun and Jongdae wiping down tables as Minseok did their weekly inventory behind the counter.

Jongdae squinted. “Why? Do you need to buy something?”

“Not particularly. I just feel that Baekhyun has been cooped up for so long. Baek, when was the last time you went out?”

“Huh?” Baekhyun turned, not completely paying attention until now. “I don’t know, like, last week?”  _ When Chanyeol took me out _ .

“See? He needs to do something fun. We all need to do something fun. Let’s go to the mall.”

“Hmm... whatever you say,” Jongdae mumbled, setting his rag down to hug Minseok from behind. Baekhyun was suddenly very interested in the table he was cleaning.

And so the trio trekked to the mall, Jongdae and Minseok hand-in-hand and Baekhyun with no hand to hold. They bounced from store to store without anything particular to buy in mind, though their stop at Forever 21 ended with them purchasing sheet masks and a dumb fedora that Jongdae claimed was ‘classy.’ 

After two hours worth of aimlessly wandering through shops, they ended up in the food court. Jongdae and Baekhyun all but collapsed when they made it to a table, legs aching from all the walking. Minseok, however, stayed standing. “I’m thirsty, I’m going to go get a slushie. Do you guys want one as well?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll have the cola flavor, please,” Jongdae requested.

“Cherry for me, please,” Baekhyun chimed in. Jongdae squinted at him from across the table.

“Cherry? You hated cherry. What happened to blue raspberry?”

“Just trying something new, I guess.” Baekhyun shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to be open-minded.”

“Open-minded for something as mundane as a slushie flavor, though…” 

“Yeah, which makes it just as mundane to criticize.”

The air between them grew tense.

“I’ll, um, be right back with the slushies then,” Minseok turned and headed to stand in line. The silence remained between Baekhyun and Jongdae, both of their expressions stoic. Baekhyun hesitated to speak.

“Jongdae… is everything, um, alright?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” he spoke sharply and defensively.

“I don’t know, you’ve just been pretty on edge lately.”

Jongdae just sighed, crossing his arms. “I’ve just been worried about you, Baek,” he mumbled after a second.

Baekhyun didn’t expect that response. “Worried about me? Why? I’ve been as good as ever. The shop’s been going well, our house is nice, Chanyeol is here-”

“But that’s exactly the problem!” Jongdae burst loudly, and a few people looked over in interest. Baekhyun shot him a look of confusion and mild anger. “I don’t mean the shop or our house, Baek. It’s just… It’s Chanyeol. Chanyeol is the problem.”

“W-What?” Baekhyun sputtered, anger bubbling up inside of him. “What did Chanyeol ever do to  _ you _ ?”

“Nothing! Well, nothing in the particular,” Jongdae’s face scrunched up. “It’s just… aren’t you a little obsessed with him? Your relationship is moving really fast. Too fast. It almost feels as if he’s emotionally manipulating you.”

His words made Baekhyun’s blood boil even more. “Can you see how hypocritical it is of you to say that? You were the one who encouraged me to start going out with him in the first place! ‘ _ There’s nothing wrong with some mindless flirting and a few dates _ ,’ do you remember saying that? I wouldn’t have started to do it if it wasn’t for your words!”

“Yes, I did say that, but I didn’t encourage you to completely fall under his spell! There’s a thick line between liking him and following him like a mindless sheep.”

Jongdae had crossed the line. “You know what, Jongdae?  _ I _ think that you’re just jealous. You don’t go out with Minseok very often anymore, do you? You two always try to be home when I am all day and every day, and after several years I’m finally sick of it. Am I a child to you just because I’m not 21 yet? Do you think I need to be looked after? Do you think I can’t have my own fucking life?”

If Jongdae had crossed the line before, Baekhyun had joined him there. He was shaking now and Baekhyun had never seen him in so much genuine anger. “We don’t go out because we don’t want to leave you alone and make you feel lonely, you dick,” Jongdae’s eyes were closed in extreme irritation. “What  _ fucking  _ reason do I have to be jealous of your fucked up relationship? You don’t even know if he’s your soulmate, for god’s sake! He’s lying to you and you’ve become too blind to even challenge it anymore! You’re so fucking diluted that you’re just going along with whatever he says even though it’s obviously not true. News flash, nobody can remember their past  _ goddamn _ lives, Baekhyun!”

And Baekhyun didn’t say anything, he  _ couldn’t _ say anything, because it was all true. Nobody was capable of remembering their past lives, at least according to science. But that didn’t stop him from trying to believe,  _ convince himself,  _ that Jongdae was wrong.

“This is what I get for following your advice?” his voice was quiet, a deep growl. “Fucking low, Jongdae. You see that I’m finally happy for once in my life and then you decide that I’m not giving you enough attention. You haven’t gone out with Minseok because you don’t want me to feel lonely? Well I have a newsflash for you, buddy, and it’s that seeing you two makes me feel lonelier than actually being alone ever has. You’re an awful person. I regret ever knowing you.”

It was a bold lie, but Baekhyun knew it would hurt. And he was right; Jongdae’s eyes grew red rimmed in sheer frustration as Baekhyun angrily collected his things and stood up, briskly walking out of the mall. 

He was halfway to his house, still in a fit of rage, when he realized that he couldn't go there. It was a house they shared, a house that the three of them had purchased together with their hopes and dreams beside them, and he just couldn’t face Jongdae after the harsh words he had so mindlessly spat. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts before finding the one he wanted, pressing dial and holding it up to his ear.

_ “Hello?” _

“C-Chanyeol?” Baekhyun didn’t realize there were tears rolling down his cheeks until his voice came out broken.

_ “Baekhyun? What’s wrong?” _

“I-Is it alright if I stay at your place for a while?”

_ “Yes, of course! Do you know where I live? Do you need me to pick you up somewhere?” _

Baekhyun looked around, scouring for a landmark that would be easy to find. “Can we meet at the park? The tree that we had the picnic under?”

_ “I’ll be there in five minutes.” _

-

Untrue to his words, it took five minutes and thirteen seconds for Chanyeol to make it to their special spot under the tree. Baekhyun, who was sat against the trunk of the tree with his arms around his knees and tears still streaking his cheeks, had counted every last second. Chanyeol sat down next to him seeming a bit out of breath. He must have run most of the way.

“Hi, Baek.”

_ Sniff _ . “You’re late.”

“A-Am I? Oh, I’m sorry.”

_ Sniff _ .

“Are you okay?”

_ Sniff _ . “Kinda.”

“Do you want to talk about it?

Pause.  _ Sniff _ .

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.”

They sat there for a while in silence, admiring the bright night sky. It was cloudless, the full moon more luminous than Baekhyun recalled it ever being. It was a moon that radiated many different emotions; tranquillity, gracefulness, completion. But for Baekhyun that night, it felt ominous and mocking, an intense stare from the sky that served as a reminder of his mistakes. He hated it. He wanted it to go away.

“Can we go to your house now, Chanyeol?”

“Yeah.”

Baekhyun tripped when Chanyeol helped him up, his left foot having fallen asleep and now experiencing a pins-and-needles type of sensation. Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows in worry before facing away from him and crouching down.

“Hop on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Baekhyun was on the verge of protesting, but he didn’t quite have it in him to walk. And besides, he wasn’t going to deny being carried Chanyeol. He climbed on, wrapping his arms loosely around the taller’s neck as Chanyeol put his hands under his thighs and lifted. They walked home like that, Chanyeol’s back warmly pressed flush against Baekhyun’s torso. The moon was still glaring at him, but at least now Baekhyun could press his face down on Chanyeol’s shoulder to hide from it.

-

Chanyeol was much stronger than Baekhyun initially gave him credit for. Where Baekhyun’s arms were thin and on the weaker side, Chanyeol’s were thick and muscled. And as a testament to this, Chanyeol carried Baekhyun all the way to his apartment, not even having to put him down to work the elevator. Baekhyun forced him to put him down when Chanyeol was struggling to find his keys in his pockets, declaring that his legs still worked anyhow.

“I know it’s not much,” Chanyeol turned the keys in the door. “But I’m out-and-about somewhat frequently so there’s no use in getting a big house or decorating too crazily. Make yourself at home.”

Chanyeol’s apartment was roomy, the kitchen connected to the living room and containing more than all the necessary appliances. A huge flat-screen tv and a large couch covered with fluffy pillows and blankets resided in the living room. There was very little decor which made the apartment feel modern and minimalistic. Slipping his shoes off, Baekhyun wandered around the corner to find a small hall with three rooms; a bedroom, a bathroom, and a mini-studio that contained various instruments. 

“Not much?” Baekhyun’s eyebrows were raised in disbelief as he went back into the main living area. “This place is super nice! I didn’t realize that being a composer and producer paid so well.”

“Ah, you flatter me,” Chanyeol chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he plopped down on the couch next to the mountain of fluffy pillows. Baekhyun flopped down next to him, laying his head down on Chanyeol’s thigh when Chanyeol’s hand began stroking his hair as per usual. 

It was quiet for awhile, and yet somehow Baekhyun couldn’t feel comfortable.

“Chanyeol…” Baekhyun started, and the other let out an inquiring hum in reply. “Can you really remember your past lives? Are we really soulmates?”

“Of course. Why, are you finally starting to believe me?” His answer was without a pause, tone hopeful.

“No. Well, yes. Sort of,” Baekhyun sighed in frustration. “I don’t know, I was kinda beginning to, to tell you the truth. But Jongdae put some doubts in my mind…”

The hand in Baekhyun’s hair stopped. Baekhyun could see that Chanyeol made effort to prevent his face twisting into a sour expression. “Jongdae?”

“He and I got into a fight.”

“I see,” Chanyeol hesitated. “Was it… about me?”

“Yeah, about us. Our... whatever we have going on,” Baekhyun mumbled with a bitter tone. “He said that we’re moving too fast and that you’re deceiving me by lying about remembering your past lives. He’s such a dick, right?” 

He wanted Chanyeol to get mad. To tell him that he doesn’t need Jongdae, that he needs to quit his job at the café and move out of the house he shared with his ex-best friend and his ex-best friend’s soulmate. But Chanyeol wasn’t that rash. Instead, his voice stayed soft and comforting.

“He just cares about you, Baek. He’s one of your best friends, he only wants the best for you.”

“S-So you agree with him? That we’re moving too fast and that you’re deceiving me?”

“No, of course not! There was no implication of that in my words, and for the record, there’s nothing for me to deceive,” and Chanyeol’s eyes looked so soft, so sad. “I’m just saying that he had good intentions, so you should think about making up with him.”

“I guess…” 

The hands resumed in Baekhyun’s hair, and he could feel himself nodding off. The room was warm, the blankets around them soft.

“Do you want to lay down in bed, Baek?”

Chanyeol’s lap was comfy, but the world around him beginning to blur. “Yes please.”

He didn’t notice that Chanyeol had picked him up and was carrying him to the bedroom until his back hit the soft mattress. Through his eyelashes he could see Chanyeol drape a thick blanket over him before beginning to sing softly. It was “Crying Out” by Do Kyungsoo again, and Baekhyun fell a little further into the trap as he was claimed by sleep.

-

It was warm when he woke up. A warmth that he seldom remembered ever waking up to.

His forehead was pressed against Chanyeol’s chest, Chanyeol’s long arms wrapped around him to keep him close. Their legs were intertwined, Baekhyun still wearing his jeans but Chanyeol wearing soft pajama pants.

Unwanted memories began to flow back to him, stomach dropping as he recalled Jongdae’s words to him and the words he had spat in reply. He turned his head to glance at the alarm clock on Chanyeol’s bedside table. 9:04. Baekhyun heaved a sigh of relief as he buried his head back in Chanyeol’s chest; he felt bad for missing the morning rush but he could probably get away with not going into the café until the early afternoon. 

Baekhyun was beginning to nod off again until Chanyeol suddenly shifted, sitting up from where he previously laid. Pulling the covers off of himself, he began to stand up, doing his best to not disturb the smaller. But before Baekhyun knew what he was doing, his hand shot out to grab onto Chanyeol’s pajama shirt, tugging him back down in protest.

“Baek?” Chanyeol's voice was still raspy from sleep, not having realized he was awake.

“Lay back down,” Baekhyun mumbled.

“Don’t you want me to make you breakfast?”

“Not more than I want you to cuddle me.”

Chanyeol chuckled as he gave in, sliding back under the blankets and pulling Baekhyun close again. Baekhyun hid his face back in Chanyeol’s shirt, slightly embarrassed by his clinginess.

“Do you have work today?” he rubbed circles into Baekhyun’s side.

“Not until later,” he wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s torso.

“Are you going to go?”

“I dunno.”

“You should.”

“I’d rather stay here.”

“Are you worried about seeing Jongdae?”

Baekhyun didn’t answer, and he didn’t need to. Chanyeol already knew.

“‘ _ Magsisi ka man at huli wala nang mangyayari _ .’ ‘There is no need to cry over spilt milk.’”

“I'm lactose intolerant.”

“Y-You are?”

“No,” Baekhyun grinned cheekily.

“Well,” Chanyeol cleared his throat, “that's besides the point. It means that you shouldn't hide from something that has already happened because it can’t be changed. You have to go out and put effort into settling things yourself.”

“You and your Filipino proverbs…” Baekhyun shook his head.

“They’re always right, aren’t they?” Chanyeol grinned.

“Yes, and I hate it.”

They laid in the bed for a long time after that, only getting up when Baekhyun’s stomach growled loudly.

-

Minseok’s concerned expression could not be masked by the unconvincing smile he shot Baekhyun as the latter walked into the cafe in the early afternoon. Though it wasn’t Minseok he was angry at, the smile Baekhyun returned resembled more of a grimace. 

“Hey, Baek.”

“Hey, Minseok.”

“How are you?”

“Fine, you?”

“The same,” Minseok tried to smile again, though it still came across as painfully fake. 

Baekhyun’s stomach dropped. He should have known Minseok would take Jongdae’s side of the argument. They’re soulmates, after all, and he shouldn’t have expected any different. 

He didn’t want to see Minseok anymore. 

“We got a new shipment of coffee beans, right? I’ll go start putting them away in the back.”

“Okay.”

But Baekhyun was too focused on getting away from Minseok to realize that if Jongdae wasn’t in the front of the shop, the only other place he could be was in the back. And sure enough, the aforementioned  _ traitor _ was already there stocking the shelves with bags of coffee beans. Baekhyun cursed Minseok for not telling him.

Jongdae turned around at the sound of the door being opened, face bright and mouth open as if about to speak. However, he seemed taken aback to see Baekhyun there instead of Minseok. His mouth opened and closed for a moment before he let out a simple, “Hi.”

Baekhyun nodded in acknowledgment instead of responding verbally. Avoiding eye contact, he went over to the box of coffee beans next to Jongdae, begrudgingly assisting him in restocking the shelves.

“Where did you stay last night?”

“Chanyeol’s place.”

“ _ Why _ ?” Jongdae sounded agitated, though he caught himself and cleared his throat, speaking now in a much softer tone. “Why?” 

“Why do  _ you _ care?” Baekhyun deadpanned in response, still not making eye contact.

Jongdae paused before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. Why  _ do  _ I care?”

They didn’t utter a single word to each other for the rest of the day. 

-

  
Chanyeol purposely timed his trip to the coffee shop to end when Baekhyun’s shift concluded as well. The taller was putting on his coat by the time Baekhyun emerged from the back room after a day of organizing and restocking. 

“How was it?” Chanyeol asked, placing his empty ceramic mug on the cart with the other dirty dishes. Sending a weak smile and a nod to Minseok who was still behind the counter, Baekhyun didn’t answer until they were outside.

“Uneventful.”

Chanyeol frowned. “You didn’t talk to Jongdae?”

“ _ He _ didn’t talk to  _ me _ .”

“But did  _ you  _ talk to  _ him _ ?”

“...No.”

Chanyeol sighed before reaching down to take Baekhyun’s hand. “Let’s go get ice cream.”

“Okay.”

-

It was another notably nice day for an April. There was no threat of rain, the sun high in the sky and the temperature warm. Baekhyun had chosen a bench for them to sit on as they ate their ice cream.

“I don’t understand why you’re so intent on me making up with Jongdae, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun mumbled between licks of his cone. “He’s such an ass to you.”

“I don’t care if he doesn’t like me, he’s one of your best friends. You need him just as much as he needs you.”

“He doesn’t need me, he has his soulmate. And now I do too,” Baekhyun settled into Chanyeol’s side. “I’ll make up with him someday when I know for sure that I’m right. So please, just… give me some time.”

Chanyeol seemed to ponder this as if he were about to reject it. “Yeah, okay. I just want to see you happy, Baek.”

“I  _ am  _ happy! I have you, you dumb sunflower,” Baekhyun playfully punched Chanyeol’s arm. The taller raised an eyebrow.

“Sunflower?”

“Yeah, you’re like a sunflower. Tall and happy.”

Chanyeol grinned slyly, leaning closer to him. “Ever kissed a sunflower?”

“Not when I don’t like his flavor of ice cream,” Baekhyun stuck out his tongue, turning away.

“Hey, I don’t like many sugary things, but mint chocolate chip is good!”

“More like gross,” Baekhyun corrected, though he leaned up to peck the giant’s cheek anyway. Chanyeol flushed, and they fell into a happy silence. Baekhyun figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while. Taking a deep breath, he started. “Do you ever remember how you die, Chanyeol?” 

Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed the moment the words left Baekhyun’s mouth, stopping mid-lick. Baekhyun immediately regretted asking, hurrying to take his words back.

“Ah, you know what, nevermind. Scratch that, please don’t answer,” but he hesitated again. There was something else he was curious about too. “But can you tell me anything about how _ I  _ die, if I’m the one who dies first?”

But Chanyeol looked just as troubled with this question as he did the last one, if not even more. He moved the ice cream cone away from his lips, staring at his feet.

“I’d rather not relive it, Baekhyun.”

“I understand. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

They continued eating their ice cream, and by the time they were done, their moods having returned to what they were previously. 

-

Chanyeol’s hours at work tended to vary greatly. There would be a few days where he would be home the whole day, only leaving to walk Baekhyun to and from the café, and others where he left early in the morning and only returned long after the sun had disappeared. 

Baekhyun hated those days the most. He hated returning to Chanyeol’s apartment after a long day of ignoring and being ignored and not having someone to cling onto, to tell him that it’s okay, that he’s in the right, and that it will all be over once his birthday rolls around so he could be proven right. For the first time in his life, 21 felt like the magic number everyone said it was.

Baekhyun always stayed up and waited for Chanyeol no matter how late he got home. Chanyeol told him not to, that it wasn’t good for his health, but Baekhyun had always been stubborn. Sometimes Baekhyun would be up as late as three in the morning, watching TV without really paying attention. Instead he would stare at the door, impatiently waiting for Chanyeol to come in and embrace him. 

Jongdae would’ve told him that it was unhealthy. Baekhyun told himself that he didn’t care.

Jongdae wasn’t a part of Baekhyun’s life anymore, after all.

But there was a time when Baekhyun couldn’t stay up no matter how hard he tried. It was 1:48 am that night, the disseminating moon blurred by the harsh raindrops that fell from the sky. The apartment shook with the roar of thunder, the roof alive with the loud and constant staccato of raindrops, lightning flashing outside the windows.

He wanted to stay up, wanted to see Chanyeol as soon as he walked through the door. But Chanyeol had returned home late the past couple nights as well, and Baekhyun wasn’t accustomed to losing that much sleep. It felt as if there were weights on his eyelids, tugging them down no matter how much of a fight he put up. His whole body felt heavy, muscles not far from limp, head fuzzier with each rumble of thunder.

But he was going to stay up for Chanyeol. He  _ had  _ to.

He gave a half-hearted scramble for his mp3 player, knowing that there would still be a small part of him conscious enough to wake up if he were to listen to music he knew well as he napped. It was a trick he learned in high school, a way to counter the early mornings that ate away at his sanity. He navigated his playlists through blurry eyes until he found the song he wanted and put it on loop; “Crying Out” by Do Kyungsoo. He tried to imagine it was Chanyeol singing it to him as his eyes finally shut.

Hours passed, or was it simply minutes? It was impossible to tell either way, but somewhere in the absence of Baekhyun’s thoughts and the quiet hum of music, he felt a hand beginning to stroke his hair. His heart nearly burst with affection.  _ Chanyeol _ , his mind screamed.  _ Chanyeol, Chanyeol, Chanyeol _ ! 

He wanted to open his eyes, throw himself into Chanyeol’s arms, kiss Chanyeol’s dimple, tell Chanyeol how much he missed him,  _ his soulmate _ . But with the hand in his hair and the soft ballad playing in his ear, he couldn’t bring himself to disrupt the moment.

The hand kept stroking, the song kept playing.

But then the hand stopped. It still rested between his locks, but it seldom moved.

Slowly, Baekhyun peeled open his eyes to be met with the sight of Chanyeol, sitting on the floor in front of him, asleep. It couldn’t have been comfortable; he had dozed off in the middle of stroking Baekhyun’s hair, after all. But it wasn’t just this that worried him. Chanyeol’s locks were plastered to his forehead. His shirt was stuck to his arms and torso, wet from the rain. Most worrying, though, was how violently he was shivering. Baekhyun was suddenly wide awake, sitting up and pausing his mp3 player.

He tugged Chanyeol to his feet by the hand that was previously in his hair, jolting the taller awake in the process. He only stared at Baekhyun in a tired daze.

“B-Baek...” Chanyeol managed to get out through chattering teeth as Baekhyun dragged him to his bedroom. He didn’t protest as Baekhyun unbuttoned his shirt, handing him a different one to slip over his head. Neither of them spoke a word until Chanyeol was no longer shivering and Baekhyun was clinging to his soft pajamas as they laid in bed. “You stayed up for me again. You need to stop doing that.”

“I had to,” Baekhyun laid his head on Chanyeol’s chest, searching and immediately finding the steady and familiar  _ thump thump thump  _ that he had long been awaiting. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why?”

“I can’t sleep without you here.”

Chanyeol scoffed. “Then how were you able to sleep when you lived with Minseok and Jongdae?”

And oh god, there it was again, the wonderful feeling of that hand in Baekhyun’s hair, and suddenly Baekhyun couldn’t be bothered to feel annoyed about the mention of his  _ ex- _ best friends. His eyelids began to fall, Chanyeol’s ministrations having reminded him of how tired he was.

“You have to make up with them, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol mumbled, seeming to drift off with his exhaustion as well. “It’d make it hard for me to continue on knowing that this ended with you and your friends on bad terms…”

If Baekhyun was anymore awake, there would have been a sharp and confused jolt in his stomach at Chanyeol’s words; a warning as bold as there’s ever been one. But alas, conscious or not, Baekhyun was already too far gone to question Chanyeol.

-

Baekhyun had always liked being sick.

Sure, having a never-ending stuffy nose or a cough isn’t the best feeling. Feeling like you’re on the verge of puking your guts out isn’t desirable either. But being sick was always an excuse for him to escape his daily commitments of school or work in favor of surfing the internet and gorging on junk food. However, his positive outlook on sickness didn’t apply when other people were infected with it, namely Chanyeol.  _ Especially  _ Chanyeol.

After walking home in the freezing rain, he had developed a nasty cold. Chanyeol’s nose was painfully stuffy; it seemed as if he had to empty his garbage can of overflowing tissues every hour. He had a coughing fit every few minutes and had to stay in bed or on the couch all day due to lightheadedness. He still cuddled with Baekhyun, even more so now that he had little to do other than lay around. But though he claimed to be fine, he refused to kiss Baekhyun in fear of spreading the sickness.

The hours Baekhyun spent at work felt longer and more pressing. In fact, he was too busy internally fretting over Chanyeol to care or even remember that he and Jongdae were on bad terms. He even slipped up once, cracking a joke out of habit when the two were working the counter together. Jongdae had laughed at it, teeth exposed and eyes glimmering with hope. But then Baekhyun caught himself, quickly morphing his expression into one of a pained stoicism before turning around. He wasn’t sure how Jongdae reacted, but there were more important things to worry about anyway.

Prior to his sickness, Chanyeol was always the one who cooked. Now, though, Baekhyun had insisted on taking over. And Baekhyun had no plans of waking up Chanyeol, who was sleeping soundly under a mountain of fuzzy blankets after cuddling Baekhyun to sleep, to ask where the rice cooker was.

He tried to be quiet as he went through the cabinets one by one, emptying them out before growling of frustration and restocking them. Nearly half an hour went by and the only place he hadn’t checked was under the sink.

_ Figures _ , Baekhyun sighed.  _ Only Chanyeol would store his rice cooker under the sink _ .

Squatting down, Baekhyun opened and peered into the nook. His eyes scanned past the pipes and landed on the small white rice cooker.

“Aha!” he grinned to himself in triumph.

But there was another thing that caught Baekhyun’s eye. It was the glare of plastic, half-illuminated and pushed against the side of the wall. Eyebrows furrowed, Baekhyun reached in and pulled out a small, black book filled with white papers. There were small gaps between pages indicating where things had been glued down.

It seemed to be a scrapbook.

He sat there for a long while, just staring at it in silence. Baekhyun knew he shouldn’t be snooping. It was Chanyeol’s, after all, and Chanyeol was sick and defenseless. But the devil on his shoulder told him that there should be no secrets between them, that if they were  _ really  _ soulmates then Chanyeol would  _ want  _ him to see what it contained. Stomach aflutter with butterflies, Baekhyun began lifting a hand to open the book, when-

“What are you doing, Baek?”

Baekhyun immediately dropped the scrapbook with a clatter as he stood and turned to face Chanyeol, whose messy hair indicated that he had just woken up from a nap.

“I-I was going to make you dinner...”

“But where did you find that? Did you open it?” Chanyeol demanded. He seemed defensive and maybe even a little panicked, back straight and face clear of any post-nap haze. 

“I found it under the sink by the rice cooker...” Baekhyun murmured. Chanyeol’s face twisted slightly as he eyed the book that was now on the floor, seeming all kinds of upset by Baekhyun’s actions. Baekhyun felt as if he was going to pass out from shame. Stepping forward, he buried his face in Chanyeol’s chest, tears beginning to prick at his eyes. “I didn’t open it. I’m sorry, Chanyeol. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,  _ I’m sorry _ .”

“Shh, Baek, it’s ok. Next time you need something in the kitchen though, ask me, okay?”

Chanyeol cooked every day after that, brushing his sickness aside no matter how much Baekhyun protested. “You couldn’t cook well in your past lives, and I guess nothing has really changed,” the taller teased. He also made an effort to come home earlier on the days he was out late, leaving Baekhyun less time alone in the house. The whole situation made Baekhyun confused, but he brushed it off. Chanyeol was spending more time with him, after all.

-

It had been awhile since Chanyeol had gifted Baekhyun his last poppy, but the next one came when Baekhyun was at work.

“What’s the occasion?” Baekhyun grinned, gingerly taking the flower between his fingertips from where Chanyeol held it out to him over the counter. Though Chanyeol never really had any huge reasons to gift Baekhyun poppies anyway, it always at least corresponded with some small event.

Leaning on the counter, Chanyeol flashed a toothy grin. “It’s a week until your birthday.”

Baekhyun’s heart rate increased. “Ah, that’s right.” 

Truth be told, he couldn’t foresee anything extreme changing a week from then. His worries would be assuaged, as he’d know for complete certain that Chanyeol was his soulmate. He wouldn’t stop aging at all, being the younger of the pair. He would probably begin to talk to Jongdae and Minseok again too. But he’d still be working at the café, living with Chanyeol with everything the same between them, because they both already knew that they belong to each other anyway. They were both happy, and there was little to no doubt that they would stay happy. Still, Baekhyun couldn’t be anything less than excited.

“What should we do on your birthday-eve?”

“Birthday-eve?” Baekhyun snorted. “I don’t know, the usual, I guess? Work, home, cuddles, sleep.”

“C’mon, we gotta do  _ something _ ,” Chanyeol insisted. “You don’t want to go anywhere for dinner?”

“Not particularly. I like your cooking.”

“Fine, what do you want me to cook?”

“It’s your choice,” Baekhyun huffed when Chanyeol opened his mouth to protest. “It’s a special occasion for you too, right? You’re finally going to start aging again. It’ll be just as important for you as it is for me, so you choose.”

It took Chanyeol a second to reply, seeming to have frozen, but he snapped out of it quickly with a sigh. “Yeah, okay. I’ll plan the night.”

There was a loud clink on the counter as Jongdae set a mug down more forcefully than necessary.

“One americano,” he deadpanned. 

“Thank you,” Chanyeol smiled softly, taking it into his hands.

“Come again,” Jongdae smiled back, though it was painfully forced with an ounce of bite in his tone. 

Anger bubbling in his stomach, Baekhyun thought he wouldn’t mind if he didn’t have the chance to make up with Jongdae at all.

-

Chanyeol was the first one to fall asleep that night. Baekhyun was wide awake in his embrace with nothing to do but stare out the window at the third quarter moon.

He still felt curious about the scrapbook. He knew Chanyeol didn’t want him looking at its contents, and he was trying his best to respect that. But along those beliefs was a thread of doubt, taunting him, whispering in his ear that  _ Chanyeol’s love for him isn’t real unless he knows what’s inside.  _ Did it have something to do with his past lives? Would it be proof that his past lives existed, something he could show Jongdae to finally convince him?

He carefully maneuvered Chanyeol’s arms off of himself and slipped out from under the covers, padding into the kitchen. Flipping a single light on, he crouched in front of the sink and slowly opened the doors of the cabinet. 

He peered in. His eyes were greeted with the sight of dish soap, a flashlight, the rice cooker, and a rope, but there was no plastic there to reflect the light. Baekhyun stuck his hand in just to be certain, but sure enough, the scrapbook was no longer under the sink. 

He lost track of time, the time he spent searching through the rest of the kitchen bleeding into the time he spent rummaging around in the living room. He was beginning to think that he had imagined even finding it in the first place when it finally turned up, wedged behind a stack of music books in the studio room. 

His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the black, glossy book. The black, glossy book that Chanyeol didn't want him to see. But it was too late to put it behind him now. Pushing away any doubts, he opened the cover.

On the first page was a drawing of a flower. It was in a 2D style, appearing flat and lifeless yet still realistic to an extent. The stem was depicted slightly crooked and the petals were full of ripples where they overlapped with themselves. It was eerily beautiful. However, upon running his finger along it and feeling a less-than-2D texture, Baekhyun discovered that it wasn’t a drawing at all. It was a pressed flower; a flower that had been dried in order to be preserved. And upon closer inspection of the faded reddish color, it was a poppy.

Baekhyun flipped the page to find another pressed poppy. There was another on the next. And another. And another. They appeared less faded as he continued to flip, the red becoming more vibrant, more recent. Some of the petals had tears through them and some stems appeared to be cut in half. Before Baekhyun knew it, he was looking at a blank page that marked the end of where the scrapbook had been filled. 

It held no secrets. It was a simply a half-full scrapbook of pressed poppies.

Baekhyun wondered if Chanyeol had made it in one of his past lives, perhaps the one where he was a florist. Maybe he was waiting to share it with him. Had he just ruined the surprise for himself?

He shoved it back behind the music books and switched off all the lights before crawling back into the bed, settling back into the warmth. Chanyeol let a low sound from his throat, rearranging himself to accommodate Baekhyun’s presence again.

“Where’d you go?” Chanyeol mumbled, voice hoarse, arms wrapping back around the smaller. 

“The bathroom,” Baekhyun whispered in reply, his chest tightening from lying. 

It fell silent for a while. Baekhyun felt himself nodding off, but there was something still nagging at his mind that he wanted to ask. Something he needed to ask. “Chanyeol, is there something about me that reminds you of poppies? Is that why you keep giving them to me?”

Chanyeol hummed, thinking for a second. “Not necessarily. You remind me of leaves, actually, but those don’t go in bouquets.”

“Leaves? How so?” 

“They’re so vibrant during autumn, far prettier than any flower.”

“That’s right before they fall, though.”

“Hm, I guess it is.” 

With that, they fell into the rhythm of sleep.

-

The café was about to close and Baekhyun was more than ready to go home. He was already thinking about what movie he was going to watch with Chanyeol that night when there was a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Huh?” Baekhyun slipped out of his mushy thoughts dumbly, body whipping around. It was Minseok.

“You didn’t hear me?” Minseok asked, an eyebrow raised. Baekhyun shook his head no. “We’re not going to open the café tomorrow.”

“What? Why?”

Minseok appeared confused. “Because it’s your birthday..?”

“Oh, that’s right.” The week had passed by in a blur, the seven days feeling like one long day instead. Butterflies were now alive in his stomach at the sudden reminder that tomorrow would be the first of many days of Chanyeol being officially his. Minseok’s words were bothering him, though. “You’re closing the café for my birthday?”

“Well, of course! Your twenty-first birthday is a big deal. We’re closing it so the three of us can do something fun together during the day to celebrate.”

“Does Jongdae know about that plan?”

Minseok hesitated. “Well, does he have to?”

Baekhyun sighed. “Keep the café open.”

“To be quite frank, Baekhyun, I think your fight with Jongdae is beyond stupid.” Irritation was prominent in Minseok’s tone.

“He’s been an ass to me.”

“And you’ve been an ass to him back!”

Taken aback by the uncharacteristic harshness, Baekhyun just about snapped. “How would  _ you _ feel if someone you thought was one of your best friends told you that your soulmate is a liar, Minseok? Not fucking good. Chanyeol is my soulmate, I  _ know  _ it, and I’ve quite honestly never been happier! No  _ real _ friend would ever step on my happiness like that. I don’t want to waste my time with him on my birthday. I’m spending my day with Chanyeol, anyway.”

Minseok didn’t know quite what to say to that. Baekhyun was about to turn back around when he finally spoke up.

“He misses you, Baekhyun.”

“Leave the café open, Minseok.”

“You miss him too.”

“Leave the café open.”

“He’ll realize that he’s wrong when he sees you two together tomorrow. They say people have a different energy when they’re with their soulmate, you know. Please, at least make up with him then,” Minseok sighed heavily, eyes downcast. “I don’t think you realize how much this hurts me as well. To see the relationship between two people I’ve built the foundation of my adult life with fall apart so quickly... What am I to do if one day you two decide to go separate ways and force me to choose?”

Baekhyun’s stomach sunk to the floor, eyes immediately going to the clock. To his relief, it was time to start closing. Hastily, he reached under the counter to pull out the cleaning spray and a washcloth.

“He’s your soulmate, Minseok. You’ll always choose him. And I’ll always choose Chanyeol.”

They didn’t say anything else to each other, nor did they meet each other's eyes. Baekhyun wiped down the tables hastily before exiting the building. He could not have been more relieved when he finally saw Chanyeol, who was waiting at his usual spot on the bench across from the café. There was an ice cream cone clutched in his hand, and when he noticed him, he greeted Baekhyun with a smile.

“Who’s that for?” Baekhyun asked, sitting down next to him.

“You, of course!” Chanyeol held it out. Baekhyun eyed it skeptically.

“It looks half-eaten.”

“Well, it was starting to melt, a-and I couldn’t give you a puddle!” Chanyeol bit his lip. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t say sorry!” Baekhyun cut in quickly, taking the cone into his hand in an effort to wipe the look of apology off his face. “It’s really sweet of you, ice cream is just what I needed. Thank you for the surprise, Chanyeol.”

The taller grinned. “Just the first of many surprises for the rest of your last day.”

“Last day as a 20-year-old?”

“Yeah, last day as a 20-year-old.”

-

“This is, what, the third time we’ve been under this tree?”

They were back at the park. The spot that overlooked the pond of water lilies also happened to overlook the sunset, the sky a brilliance of pinks and oranges.

“Well, let’s see,” Chanyeol collapsed down onto the grass, and Baekhyun followed suit. “The first time we were here, we had a picnic and then it rained. The second time you were crying and I gave you a piggy-back ride back to my place.”

“You have a good memory, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun grinned at the reminders of their time spent together. 

“It’s not that I have a good memory, it’s just that I don’t want to forget,” and suddenly Chanyeol looked blank. Frighteningly stoic. But before Baekhyun could react, Chanyeol was back to normal and smiling again. “I have a lot of things to remember, after all. Past lives aren’t exactly short.”

“R-Right,” Baekhyun replied somewhat awkwardly before clearing his throat. “Did you plan anything for dinner?”

“Of course I did,” Chanyeol huffed playfully. “But it’s a surprise, so you’ll have to wait until later! I just thought we could sit under the tree for a while and watch the sunset for now.”

“Can we…” Baekhyun began timidly. He shouldn’t be embarrassed to ask his soulmate for physical affection. “Um…”

“Cuddle?” Chanyeol assisted, and Baekhyun nodded quickly. Chanyeol opened his arms for an embrace and Baekhyun slid into it, holding tightly onto the arms that encircled him.

A soft, quiet wind rolled over the hill, lightly brushing the grass and making flowers and leaves sway. Lightning bugs drifted through the air slowly will a small buzz, lighting up like Christmas lights. The sun was a quarter gone.

“Do you have a favorite life, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun murmured, eyes tracing the sky’s subtle shifting of colors.

“Define ‘favorite life.’”

“I don’t know… A life that, looking back at it, was better than all of the others, I guess. A life that you think of the most fondly with the best memories. A life where nothing bad happened. A life that you least want to forget.”

Chanyeol seemed to ponder this for a while before finally speaking.

“‘ _ Mahirap mamatay ang masamang damo. _ ’ ‘Weeds are difficult to kill.’” Chanyeol recited. “There are good and bad things in each lifetime, but you can’t completely rid yourself of the bad. That being said, every lifetime is precious to me. How am I to tell you of my preference if there is none that I prefer? Every lifetime is my favorite as long as you’re in it.”

“Is there ever a lifetime where we don’t meet?”

“You know it’s impossible for us not to meet, Baek. That would defy fate.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right.”

The sunset was shining its last rays; it was growing darker, only a sliver of the sun still visible. The clouds appeared a grey-ish purple and trees in the distance went from looking textured to being simple silhouettes.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol started carefully. “Do you think it’s ever too late to change?”

“Of course not. There’s always room to learn and adapt from your mistakes or the mistakes of others. Why do you ask?”

Chanyeol pressed his face into Baekhyun’s soft hair and exhaled audibly. “I don’t know. It’s not that I’ve made mistakes, per say, but sometimes I have regrets.”

Baekhyun was curious. “About what?”

“I’ll tell you some other time. This is supposed to be a happy day, remember?” Chanyeol flashed a smile before his face morphed into one of realization. “Oh! Speaking of…” he reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out two poppies, holding them out to Baekhyun. “...these are for you.” 

“Two?” Baekhyun looked at them in a strange awe before accepting them with a grin. “What a strange number. Was it a conscious choice?” 

“They represent us. One for me, one for you.”

Baekhyun leaned closer into Chanyeol’s embrace, holding the flowers carefully. The sky was void of colors and growing dark, sun completely gone from view. 

“I’ll cherish them, then.” 

For a while, all was silent except for the chirping of crickets and the calming pace of Chanyeol’s breathing. It was beginning to grow chilly.

“The sun’s gone.”

“Let’s go too, then. I have another place to take you.”

-

Baekhyun was chilly before, and yet he found himself standing outside a place that was bound to be even colder.

“No offense, Chanyeol, but I’m not really in the mood to fall on my butt right now,” Baekhyun hesitated, rolling the stems of the poppies between his fingertips as they entered the ice arena.

“I wouldn’t let you fall!” Chanyeol huffed, feigning offense. “Besides, we’re not here to skate.”

“Then why are we here?” Baekhyun scrunched up his nose in confusion. Chanyeol had grabbed his hand and was dragging him over to the concessions stand before he could finish speaking.

“Two hot chocolates, please,” Chanyeol handed money to the person at the counter. 

“What kind of lame couple goes to an ice skating rink just to buy hot chocolate?” Baekhyun remarked in something sounding close to disbelief as the worker turned away to prepare it. “It’s not even that good.”

“We do,” Chanyeol accepted the drinks from the worker and motioned with his head towards a bench. “C’mon, let’s sit down.”

It happened to be the same bench they sat at the first time they had been there. Baekhyun quietly blew on his hot drink as he fondly observed the people on the rink, doing his very best to not burn his tongue.

“‘ _ Masakit ang katotohanan, _ ’” Chanyeol suddenly mumbled as he nursed his cup, also taking the time to let it cool off. Turning to him, Baekhyun waited for the translation. It didn’t seem to be coming.

“What does that one mean?” Baekhyun probed.

“Hm? Oh,” Chanyeol’s eyes went a bit wide, almost as if he had said something out loud that he hadn’t intended to. He cleared his throat, recovering quickly. “‘ _ Masakit ang katotohanan _ .’ ‘The truth hurts.’ Sometimes the truth is not something you wanted to hear.”

“Why did that come to mind?” In his puzzlement, Baekhyun took a sip of his drink only to wince at the following painful sensation on his tongue.  _ Dammit _ .

“No reason, really. Hey, are you okay?” Chanyeol set his own drink down to turn fully to Baekhyun whose face was scrunched up, hand over his mouth. “Did you burn your tongue?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun nodded resentfully, eyes downcast and staring at the dainty poppies in his hand. Chanyeol raised a hand to cup his cheek, Baekhyun’s face growing warmer at his touch.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol said dimly. 

“Why are you apologizing? You’re not the one that burned my tongue.” 

Chanyeol only shrugged, smiling softly and leaning down to plant a kiss on Baekhyun’s forehead before moving away altogether. Face still red, Baekhyun looked up to see everybody clearing off of the rink for the zamboni to resurface the ice.

“I think I’m kinda hungry for an actual dinner now, Chanyeol.”

“That makes two of us.”

-

Baekhyun was beginning to sense a theme when Chanyeol took him to the Filipino street food vendor.

“I hope you weren’t picturing anything fancy, I figured you wouldn’t be in the mood to dress up,” Chanyeol said sheepishly, placing their food down between them at the oh-so-familiar bench they had sat at before.

“You know me so well,” Baekhyun grinned, carefully placing his precious flowers on the bench beside him before helping himself. “We can see the stars here, too, with the open sky and all. It’s pretty.” Chanyeol handed him a lumpia, that of which he accepted. 

“This is where I told you the truth about me,” Chanyeol started quietly. “About how I can remember my past incarnations. Do you remember?”

“That wasn’t very long ago, Chanyeol. How could I forget?”

“You always forget,” Chanyeol whispered, looking down at his hands. 

Baekhyun didn’t know quite how to reply to that. It was true, after all. Chanyeol was the one harboring the memories of their past lives, memories Baekhyun would never be able to recall no matter how much he wanted to. Chanyeol was the one who had to remember all the heartbreak and trauma throughout eternity whereas Baekhyun got a fresh slate for every new life. 

“I wish I could remember,” Baekhyun murmured in reply. Chanyeol looked up, any traces of sadness wiped off his face to reveal a soft smile.

“That’s why I remember for the both of us.”

Chanyeol moved closer, eyes closed and leaning down, and Baekhyun met him halfway. Their lips connected and danced in a gentle manner, Baekhyun circling his arms around the taller’s neck. After what felt like an eternity in Chanyeol’s embrace, Baekhyun pulled away to breathe.

“I’m getting a strange sense of déjà vu, Chanyeol.”

“Me too,” the taller grinned. “But it’s different this time.”

“How so?”

“Because you believe me this time. You’re not going to run away.”

“Damn right I’m not,” Baekhyun snuggled into Chanyeol’s side, food forgotten, before picking up the poppies from where he had set them down. He looked down at them, vibrant and brilliant, and held them up to his nose to inhale the scent.

“Do they smell nice?” Chanyeol asked, noticing his action.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve never thought flowers smell as good as people portray them to,” Baekhyun answered honestly, pulling them away from his nose and clutching them to his chest. “I think it depends on who gives it to you. So to answer your question, yes, it smells sweet.” 

Chanyeol burst into a grin, leaning his head on Baekhyun’s. “You’re so funny sometimes.”

“Hey, I’m funny all the time!”

Their giggles faded into the darkness, and it became quiet again. Baekhyun loved their silence the most, both of them laying on each other. His heart nearly burst when Chanyeol reached between them and picked up his hand, lacing their fingers together in a way that wasn’t anything less than perfect. 

“Are you excited to start aging again, Yeol?”

“As long as you’re by my side,” he answered earnestly after a short pause, “I’m excited for anything.”

“Ugh, so cheesy, I can’t stand it,” Baekhyun cringed, failing at suppressing a smile. He sat up to take another big bite of his food. But there was another thing he wanted to bring up, his stomach doing cartwheels until he forced the first words to come out. “Hey, Chanyeol?”

“Hm?”

“As of tomorrow… let’s date for real,” Baekhyun stated as confidently as he could. Chanyeol didn’t reply. “I know we’ve had this  _ thing _ for a while now, but we never really labeled it. So tomorrow, let’s do that. And one day, let’s get married, okay?” Chanyeol still wasn’t replying. Baekhyun was about to open his mouth again when he finally did. 

“If it was up to me, Baek, I would’ve married you the moment we met.”

Baekhyun shook his head in embarrassment.  _ Such a  _ Chanyeol _ answer _ , he thought, but there was no stopping himself from feeling fuzzy inside. He stayed silent though, only grinning at Chanyeol in reply before glancing at his watch.

“It’s 11:32. Do you have anything else planned before I turn 21?”

“There’s one more thing I need to show you, actually. Follow me.”

-

The street they walked down was dark and empty, the only light coming from a flickering street lamp at the end of the block. Baekhyun squeezed Chanyeol’s hand, and Chanyeol squeezed back. A month ago Jongdae and Minseok would have warned him against going out in the city at night, and a month ago he probably would have listened. But he didn’t need them now, because now he had Chanyeol. His soulmate. His one and only. 

“What is it you wanted to show me, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun inquired, their footsteps quiet, yet so loud in the silent atmosphere.

“It’s a surprise!” Chanyeol patted Baekhyun’s head. “We have to wait for it to rise above the buildings, first.”

“Oh, I wonder what it is,” Baekhyun’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Why do you want to show me the moon?”

“Was I not subtle enough?”

“Not in the slightest,” Baekhyun giggled, and Chanyeol pouted. “Seriously though, I see the moon every night.”

“This moon is different,” Chanyeol murmured. “Do you know what a balsamic moon is, Baekhyun?”

“I don’t know anything about the moon phases, but just by the name it sounds pretentious.” 

“It’s beautiful, I promise.”

“What is it, exactly?” Baekhyun asked as he looked up at the sky, eyeing the bright stars.

“It’s the last phase before the new moon. The last we see of this lunar cycle before the moon isn’t visible for a day, and then the cycle starts all over again. The balsamic moon is just a sliver.”

“Eerie,” Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows, though he was excited to see it nonetheless. The moon had always been a spectacle for him, and with Chanyeol it would only be more beautiful.

“Hey, I think we’ll be able to see it well from over there,” Chanyeol tugged at his hand, pointing down a shadowed alleyway.

Baekhyun was unsure of this. It looked ominous and he couldn’t see where it ended. He wasn’t a fan of dark places to begin with, either. But he trusted Chanyeol. Anything for Chanyeol.

It was strange that so much of their relationship had been built up by trust.

As they walked through the alleyway, Baekhyun couldn’t help but notice how immense the darkness was. He wouldn’t be able to see his two poppy flowers if he held them in front of his face, much less see the walls of the buildings surrounding him. The stars were bright but not bright enough, and the moon still wasn’t visible yet. Their footsteps seemed to echo in the darkness and Baekhyun began deliberately walking slower to hear less of them. Who would blame him for being scared?

His grip on both the poppy flowers and Chanyeol’s hand tightened. He closed his eyes (not that it made a difference) and inhaled deeply in attempts to calm himself, letting Chanyeol guide him through the darkness.

_ It’s okay, as long as I have Chanyeol to hold onto… _

But just as those words came to his head, Chanyeol’s grip slipped out of Baekhyun’s. Gone was Chanyeol’s hand and the warmth, comfort, and reassurance that came with it. Eyes flying open, Baekhyun’s heart dropped as he began to panic, both hands reaching out into the darkness around him to try to find Chanyeol again.

“Ch-Chanyeol?” he called loudly out in his panic, that of which was only increasing when he still wasn’t able to locate the other. 

“Chanyeol?!” he called out louder when the back his hand was scraped painfully against the bricks of a building that surrounded the alley, but still no Chanyeol. Tears began to pool. His grip on the poppy flowers became the tightest it had ever been.

“Chanyeol!” he screamed out into the sky as he stared up at the stars, the only reassurance that his eyes weren’t closed.

It was then when he felt pressure again. Around his neck this time. And it wasn’t the reassuring press of Chanyeol’s hands. Instead it was the thorny heaviness of a rope surrounding his neck.

Baekhyun tried to scream, call out,  _ anything, _ but to no avail. The rope around his throat was cutting off all airflow. It was like a vice grip, only getting tighter and tighter.

He reached his empty hand back in an attempt to pry the hands holding the rope off, but it was no use; they were simply too strong. He dug his fingernails into the stem of the poppies before throwing the once precious flowers to the dirty ground, utilizing his other hand in another attempt to pull the pressure off of him as well. It still didn’t work.

It was too dark to see who it was. Baekhyun knew, subconsciously, of course. The hands holding the rope locked around his neck were so familiar. Calloused, yet soft. Hands that had been in his hair, hands that had held him tenderly, hands that he had loved. Hands that he  _ still _ loved. But he didn’t want to accept it. The more they tightened the rope around his neck, the more he struggled, and the faster he tried to push the possibility out of his mind.  _ It’s not Chanyeol. It can’t be Chanyeol. Chanyeol's not the one hurting me. Chanyeol would never hurt me _ .

Was Chanyeol lying to him all this time? 

Were they really not soulmates? 

Did Chanyeol actually have the memories of his past lives? 

The thought of Chanyeol’s relationship with him just being an elaborate ploy did come as a suggestion to his mind, but Baekhyun knew in his heart that wasn’t the case. Chanyeol was too genuine. Chanyeol wouldn’t lie to him.

Tears began to slide down Baekhyun’s cheeks in a silent sadness as his soulmate continued to end his life.

He gasped for air, longed to scream for  _ help _ , but he could make no noise and no help came. He had no more energy to flail or scramble, and it would be no use anyway. Chanyeol was too strong compared to him.

Baekhyun was getting lightheaded, the world spinning around him in his dizzy haze, his lungs feeling as if they were in flames. He looked up at the stars in wonder as they appeared to slide from side to side, leaving a fuzzy, glistening trail. He could barely make out a sliver of newfound light peeking out from over one of the buildings. 

The balsamic moon.

Baekhyun stopped thinking for a moment to admire it. It really was beautiful. He almost wanted to laugh. Another tear rolled down his cheek instead.

It was then when the hands holding the rope drew him back towards their source. He didn’t try to move with them, instead letting himself be dragged until his back was pressed against Chanyeol’s torso. There was no point anyway; he was already losing consciousness. He felt a soft press against his head, the warm feeling of Chanyeol’s kissing him sweetly for a final time. There was a whisper in the darkness as the lips drew away.

“I love you forever and always, Baekhyun. In your next lifetime, I’ll have these memories to share with you as well. Wait for me then, okay?”

It would’ve been sweet in any other situation, and in a way, it still was. Chanyeol’s grip tightened even more. And Baekhyun couldn’t do anything but close his eyes as one last tear streaked his face.

His fruitless attempts at drawing a breath came to a stop.

And then he was gone.

-

_ “Lahat ng gubat ay may ahas.”  _

_ “ _ There is a snake in every forest.”

Everywhere you go, there will be people who should not be trusted, even those you might not expect.

-

Chanyeol released his grip on the rope around Baekhyun’s neck as the smaller fell limp, carefully setting him on the ground against the brick building that lined the alleyway. He tucked the rope away in his jacket pocket and pulled out a flashlight, shining it upon the other.

Baekhyun was always so beautiful, even when he was asleep. It made Chanyeol  _ ache. _ He would miss the smaller in the meantime. He always did to some extent.

Scanning the ground with the beam of the flashlight, he located and picked up the two poppies that Baekhyun had thrown to the ground in his struggle. He sighed at the torn up stems; what a shame they had to face the wrath of Baekhyun’s fingernails. Part of him was hoping his soulmate would be a bit more cooperative this time.

Walking back over, he leaned over Baekhyun’s body, inspecting his neck. He hoped it didn’t hurt too bad, though it was sure to leave a bruise of a thick line running around his neck. Chanyeol always found it strange that the recently deceased could still bruise. It’s almost as if their body is still trying to be alive.

He left the less-ruined poppy in Baekhyun’s pocket, tilting the smaller’s chin up for a final kiss on his lukewarm lips. He tucked the other flower in his own jacket pocket as he stood up. Taking one final look at his soulmate, his heart melted one last time before he turned the flashlight off with a click and exited the alleyway. He hummed as he walked back to his apartment.

Science said that it's impossible for anyone to remember their past lives, and Chanyeol was certainly no exception to this rule. But there’s a loophole in being unable to age again until both parties reach 21, as what if one of them never lives to reach that age? The person who died would be reincarnated again, sure, but during the many years leading up to them becoming of age, their soulmate would wait for them at 21. Chanyeol wasn’t quite exaggerating when he said that he’d been 21 longer than he could remember, after all.

He never felt resentful towards himself for ending the life of his soulmate. If anything, he was  _ happy _ . He had promised himself that he’d never forget any of their memories together, and with each passing lifetime came more memories to share. They were too precious to forget. And who can blame him for simply living up to a promise?

There was a new edition to Chanyeol’s scrapbook of pressed poppies that night.

-

It was a really poor day for Jongdae to feel miserable. 

Spring was in full bloom, beautiful flowers of every color seeming to have popped up on every patch of grass in the city overnight. The only clouds in the sky were the sparse fluffy ones that everyone always seemed to compare to cotton candy, foretelling nothing but positive weather for the rest of the day. The sun was on the border between warm and hot, the perfect day to kick-off pool season.

A poor day for Jongdae to feel miserable indeed, he thought as he uncomfortably pulled at his tie. He had never been fond of suits. His hands were sweating, sticking to the plastic wrapping of the bouquet of lilies he held.

It was a month ago, May 6th, when Baekhyun first didn’t show up for work at the café. They had brushed it off then; it was his birthday, after all. They didn’t completely expect him to come in the first place, especially considering the tension between them. But he didn’t show up on May 7th, 8th, 9th, or any day after that either. Baekhyun may have been stubborn, but they knew he wouldn’t boycott his own business that. Baekhyun still loved the café.

Jongdae confronted Chanyeol, who was still going in for his daily americano. According to Chanyeol, they too had gotten into a fight, and he hadn’t seen Baekhyun since the night before his birthday.

“In all honesty, that’s the reason I’m still coming here for coffee,” Chanyeol smiled, though his eyes held a prominent sense of emptiness. “I’m hoping that I’ll come in and see him behind the counter.”

Jongdae had nodded in understanding at the time, but nothing could stop him from being frustrated at the other. How dare Chanyeol fight with Baekhyun? Wasn’t their bond stronger than anything?

He pursed his lips when he noted the hypocrisy.

Jongdae tried calling Baekhyun. He and Minseok both did. Every morning when they woke up, every night before they went to sleep. During their commute to and from the café. At the beginning and end of each break they took.

_ Hello, you’ve reached Byun Baekhyun~ You know what to do after the beep! _

_ Hello, you’ve reached Byun Baekhyun~ You know what to do after the beep! _

_ Hello, you’ve reached Byun Baekhyun~ You know what to do after the beep! _

The voicemail began to make them feel sick, but they didn’t stop calling.

-

A week later, a university student who was cutting through an alleyway to get to class discovered a corpse, that of which was later identified as Byun Baekhyun. The cause of death was strangulation with a rope, as demonstrated by the purple bruise that ran around his neck. A decaying poppy flower had been found in his coat pocket. An autopsy had revealed that he died late at night on the 5th, most likely less than 10 minutes before his 21st birthday. The DNA of Park Chanyeol was found on his lips.

Park Chanyeol burst into tears of disbelief when he was called into questioning. “H-He’s dead?” the tall man looked pitiful as he curled into himself. “It’s all my fault… I should’ve never fought with him that night…. It’s all my fault….” He repeated these words like a mantra. The police weren’t able to extract a story from him until he calmed down. 

According to Park Chanyeol, the two of them had gone out that night to celebrate Byun Baekhyun’s turning of age. They went to various locations, as confirmed by the workers at the ice rink and the street food vendor, but fought as they were walking home. “I said something insensitive,” Chanyeol whispered into his hands, his eyes wide as he trembled violently. “That he should stop working at the café. He cares so much about the café so he got really angry. We started to fight, and he ran away. That’s the last I saw of him. It was after we ate, around 11:30” They questioned him for hours and hours, asking about every detail of evidence, but he stayed consistent to his story and his answers were impossible to disprove.

Naturally, many of the police were hesitant to believe him; he was the only suspect, after all, and they couldn’t let him get away if he was guilty. But they could find no motivation. They couldn’t match the bruises on Baekhyun’s neck with a hand size, as the murderer had used a rope which they had most likely disposed of in an irreversible manner. There was no CCTV or any other witnesses. There simply wasn’t enough evidence to incriminate Park Chanyeol- or anyone, for that matter -as the murderer. 

Unless new evidence came out, the case would remain unsolved, and the police would not be contacting Park Chanyeol again.

-

Jongdae and Minseok closed the café early that night upon hearing the news. They didn’t go there to open it the next day. Or the next day. Or the next.

“We’ll reopen it after the funeral,” Minseok had whispered as they huddled together in their shared room, both of their eyes red and faces swollen. It was the only place in their house that they felt truly secure. Everywhere else reminded them of Baekhyun. “Maybe then we’ll be able to move on.”

Jongdae had agreed at the time, but now, he couldn’t help but think that he would never be able to move on. He stared at the mahogany casket with a never-ending pit in his stomach. The thought of it containing Baekhyun’s lifeless body made him absolutely  _ sick _ .

It was a small funeral. Baekhyun’s family was there, of course; his parents, brother, and his aunts and uncles. Yixing, Baekhyun’s only high school friend besides Jongdae and Minseok, had flown in from China to be there. Jongin and Sehun were also present, a few teenagers who worked part-time at the café during the summer. Chanyeol was there too of course, the only one not crying. Instead, his eyes were dull, staring at the casket with a strange numbness. Jongdae supposed that people deal with grief in different ways. Perhaps Chanyeol blamed himself for fighting with Baekhyun, ultimately driving him to run away to his demise. Chanyeol had probably already cried plenty. Maybe he had no more tears to shed.

_ How could this have happened? _

That was a common thought that echoed in Jongdae’s head.

If only he and Baekhyun hadn’t gotten into that petty,  _ petty _ argument. Then maybe when Chanyeol and Baekhyun had gotten into the fight, he could’ve been there for Baekhyun to confide in instead of running away. 

_ Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. _

Jongdae’s red eyes felt too drained of tears to cry anymore, yet they still pooled when the casket was slowly lifted and eased into the hole in the ground.

Tears were more abundant than ever. 

Jongdae felt sicker.

Chanyeol was still tearless.

They began to bury it. Jongdae couldn’t bare to look for the rest of the service. He tilted his head up to look at the sky instead. At least the sky seemed happy. 

Jongdae envied it.

He lost track of the time until Minseok tapped his shoulder softly. “Are you ready to go, Jongdae?” his voice was hoarse and choked up. “We can come back tomorrow, it’s just… we should leave the Byuns alone.”

Indeed, Baekhyun’s parents and brother were the only ones besides them still there. Jongdae looked past them at the now complete grave in front of him. There was no headstone yet, as it was going to take a few more months to be made. There were, however, many flowers laying atop the fresh, brown soil. Many of the flowers were light in color, most of the white or pastel pink variety. But there was one bouquet that stood out from the rest. It contained flowers with violently red petals and a black interior.

“Poppies,” Minseok mumbled when he saw what Jongdae was staring at, eyes a sickening pink from tears. “Almost sinister to leave them here, really. To think his body was found with one in his pocket...”

“Who left them?”

“I’m not sure, I-” Minseok paused to cough, clearing the mucus in his throat that was making his words indistinguishable. “I think it was Chanyeol? He’s consistent with that flower, even now. Even though he gave Baekhyun the poppy that day...”

In all of his grief, something clicked in Jongdae’s head. A hunch that made him sick to his stomach. He needed to research something. Urgently.

He stepped forward, set the lilies upon the grave, and with one last lingering look, turned to walk away.

-

“Chanyeol, can I talk to you for a second?” 

It was a few days after the funeral. Nothing had really changed; there was still no lead as to who the culprit was, and Jongdae and Minseok remained as broken as before. They were in the café; Chanyeol was placing his empty ceramic mug on the dish rack when Jongdae had approached him.

“Sure thing, Jongdae. What about?”

Jongdae couldn’t ignore just how  _ normal _ Chanyeol sounded. It was as if nothing had ever happened. 

It made Jongdae’s blood boil.

“Flowers. You know a fair amount about them, right? I need your advice on which type to bring to the cemetery this weekend,” and Jongdae couldn’t help but feel disgusted by how normal he sounded as well. To talk about bringing flowers to the grave of his best friend so casually. It still hurt to talk about Baekhyun, of course. Very much so. But Jongdae was too blinded by his rage to feel the true pain. “Can we talk in the back?”

Chanyeol grabbed his coat and followed Jongdae behind the counter and into the back room. They sat down across from each other at the plastic table the café workers took their breaks at.

“You’re visiting the grave again this weekend?” Chanyeol started softly.

“Minseok and I have been visiting every day,” Jongdae nodded, eyes downcast. No,  _ he _ should be the assertive one here. He looked back up to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. “We just haven’t had time to purchase flowers again until now. We brought lilies to the funeral, but I want something more meaningful.”

“I understand,” Chanyeol appeared to be deep in thought. “Well, like lilies, carnations are another popular funeral flower. Red carnations mean admiration while pink ones mean remembrance. Any kind of white flower is good, as the color white represents purity and innocence. Hydrangeas represent heartfelt emotions, and-”

“What about the flowers that you brought, the red and black ones? Poppies, right?” Jongdae cut in, growing impatient. Chanyeol closed his mouth before nodding a bit warily. “What do those represent?”

Chanyeol seemed a bit taken aback. “Well, um, they’re commonly used to commemorate veterans and soldiers who have died at war, but their real meaning goes much deeper than that. They represent sleep due to the sedative opium that is derived from them and death due to their red color. They also mean peace, but as far as I know, there isn’t exactly a distinctive reason for that-” 

“You sure know a lot about poppies,” Jongdae challenged, cutting him off again.

“Yeah, I do,” Chanyeol cleared his throat. “I used to be a florist.”

“In a past life?”

“Yes, in a past life.”

“Oh, that’s right. You remember those, don’t you?” Jongdae’s spoke with malice.

“Yeah, Baekhyun told you about it, right?” Chanyeol seemingly missed the venom. He hesitated before continuing. “I-I know people may have viewed it as cruel to bring the type of flower that I gave him the day he died, and I understand that. But in my opinion, they’re the most meaningful funeral flower.”

_ Funeral flower _ .

Jongdae’s breath caught in his throat. 

“So if they’re a  _ funeral flower _ , how come you gave them to Baekhyun?” Jongdae burst. Chanyeol’s face contorted into a look of confusion.

“W-Well, we were at a funeral-”

“No, before that!” Jongdae’s voice was raised. “You know what I’m talking about, Park Chanyeol! You gave me a poppy, a  _ funeral flower, _ to deliver to Baekhyun when he was avoiding you. Remember that? It was after he had run from you at the food vendor, the first night you went out together,” Jongdae was standing now, yelling. “He always came home from your outings giggling with another  _ funeral flower _ in his hand.  _ You left a bouquet of funeral flowers in our house in a vase on the fucking kitchen counter _ .” 

“I-”

“No, don’t even  _ try _ to defend yourself, Chanyeol, because I have you figured out!”

“Figured out?” Chanyeol was standing now too, his volume matching Jongdae’s. “There is nothing for me to be ‘figured out’ about, there is nothing that I did-”

“Oh, but you  _ did _ do something. The way you’re still playing the innocent card makes me absolutely sick,” and then Jongdae’s voice dropped to a whisper. A breathy, cold cut, harsh, and sharp whisper. “You killed him, Chanyeol. You were planning it, too. You gave him flowers representing death when he was alive and healthy, and then you strangled him and had the  _ nerve _ to leave one of them with his corpse.  _ You killed him _ .” 

It wasn’t a question. Chanyeol knew it was something he couldn’t fight.

“Nobody is going to believe you, Jongdae.”

“ _ You killed him _ .”

“All you have is circumstantial evidence, and you know as well as I do that it won’t do anything in court.”

“ _ You killed him _ .”

“I’ve already been cleared by the police. They’re all going to think you’re crazy.”

“But _ you killed him. You killed my best friend. You killed one of the two people I care about most in this world _ .” Jongdae didn’t notice that there were tears in his eyes until one slid down his cheek.

Jongdae had wanted to be wrong. He had wanted Chanyeol to say that hadn’t realized their meaning, that he liked them just for the color or something mundane like that. He wanted to believe in Chanyeol just as Baekhyun did. But fortunately, he wasn’t as blind as Baekhyun was.

Jongdae couldn’t do anything but sit back down in the chair, press the heels of his hands to his eyes, and cry.

“Why,” his whisper barely audible. “Why did you do it?”

Chanyeol didn’t answer.

“Are you really soulmates?”

Chanyeol stayed silent but nodded.

“Right before he turned 21…” and then something in Jongdae’s mind clicked again. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. It’s not that you can remember your past lives. It’s been the same life for you all along.”

Chanyeol still stayed mum.

“You’ve been killing the person made for you for something as mundane as immortality, Chanyeol? You’ve been taking advantage of the fact that you happened to reach 21 first to end his life before you can start aging again? All so you can evade the impending threat of death?”

“I’m not shallow enough to desire immortality, Jongdae. Do you think I like having to wait years and years to meet my soulmate again?” Chanyeol’s voice was just as low. “Immortality is nothing more than a side effect.”

“Then what’s your reason? Because, quite frankly, I can’t think of any other excuse to murder your soulmate other than being mentally insane,” Jongdae spat. “Last time I checked, nobody’s forcing you to wait. So what  _ fucking _ reason do you have t-”

“I do it to preserve memories,” though Chanyeol spoke quietly, it was with an underlying sense of confidence, as if he was convinced he was in the right. “What good is it to forget everything? Sometimes we have to make sacrifices to keep those lifetimes alive in our hearts.”

His chest thrummed with even more anger with Chanyeol’s poor justification. “But you’ve only known him for a month this lifetime.  _ A month _ . Is a month of memories worth taking his life for?”

Jongdae’s feelings were muddled with rage and unthinkable theories against Chanyeol before, so much so that he almost forgotten the fire behind his fury. But now he knew the truth about Baekhyun’s death. The real, stone-cold truth. And now the emotions were crashing down on him. Though his body trembled with anger before, it now trembled with remorse. 

Baekhyun was gone, and Chanyeol was to blame. 

But in a way, Jongdae was to blame as well.

If only Jongdae and Minseok didn’t make Baekhyun feel lonely, lonely enough that he desperately wanted to find someone else to lean on. If only he hadn’t encouraged and pushed Baekhyun to date before he reached of age. If only he hadn’t been so tolerant of Chanyeol’s insufferable presence. If only he hadn’t fought with Baekhyun, hadn’t pushed him to run to the man who would ultimately end his life. Then none of this would’ve happened.

“You’re a bastard,” Jongdae whispered into his hands. But he wasn’t just talking to Chanyeol; he was talking to himself, as well.

Chanyeol turned to his chair and picked up his coat.

“An absolute bastard. The scum of the Earth.”

Chanyeol slipped his coat on as he made his way to the door.

“I hope you die as painfully and as in vain as Baekhyun did.”

Chanyeol stopped at that, turning back to glance at Jongdae one final time as he stood in the doorway. “Next time I see him, I’ll tell him that an old friend said hi. I promise.” Chanyeol may have been a lot of things, but he wasn’t one to break promises. He gave a small smile before walking out of the room as calmly as he had entered, offering a friendly wave to Minseok who was taking orders at the counter. He found himself stopping in the doorway just to hear the words one final time.

“Welcome to  _ The One _ café, what would you like to order?” 

And then he exited the building.

That was the last Jongdae, Minseok, and everyone else in the city ever saw of Park Chanyeol. For Park Chanyeol was going to board a plane to the Philippines and would only return 18 years later in time for his soulmate to fall in love with him all over again. 

It didn’t take much effort to seek his soulmate out when he came back; a part of Chanyeol always just knew where to go. One may call it inexplicable, but they’re soulmates, after all. They’ll be together through all of eternity.

No one said that eternity was going to be happy.

-

_ “You know, Hwanhee, there was a life when I met you at a café.” _

_ “Tell me more, Chanyeol...” _


	2. Epilogue: Lunar Cycles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20 years later, Jongdae still finds himself stuck in the past. With time running out, he'll find Chanyeol and bring justice to Baekhyun himself.

Hello~

I have written a short continuation of this fic, which can be viewed [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878880). It was originally posted as a second chapter but I decided to make it a new work instead ><

Please enjoy if you are interested in reading more <3

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on my [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/chennychenchinchen) and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/jongdaeuwus) <3


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